The Mandylion Saga Part One: Changes
by Jizena
Summary: Sequel to Time Warp Factor Five. Part 1 of 4. After the Incident, Zim is still struggling with human tendencies... Dib and Gaz are growing up... Tak is plotting the final Invasion... everything is about to change. M for language/violence.
1. Intro 1: I'll Begin With a Memory

**– – –**

**Author's Note:**

Hello and welcome to Part One of _The Mandylion Saga!_ Abbreviated as _IZMS,_ this story has been in the works for a long, long time... I started it in high school (I'm now two years out of college, heh), and it has gone through countless edits and re-writes. I'm so happy to be sharing the final edit. :3

Before you begin reading, please do read the prequel to this, _Time Warp Factor Five,_ the link to which is available on my profile. :3

A quick note regarding timeline: _IZMS_ takes place after the events of _Invader Zim,_ as well as _TWFF. _It also is written under the assumption that the unaired episode _The Trial_ was a lead-in event. The years mentioned herein are based on the 'real' years of the show (i.e., that the Invasion began in March of 2001).

_IZMS_ will update with at least one chapter every Friday! There are four parts total: Changes, Transitions, Memories, and Promises, plus one Epilogue. (I will already hint that part 3 is my favorite... :3) While _TWFF_ was written solely as Gaz's journals, _IZMS_ will be narrated in three voices, each of whom have an intro chapter, to get things rolling! There will, however, be additional chapters (commentary?) by other voices.

And before I go, some thanks: 1. For all of the positive reception to _TWFF _ so far! 2. To J_.3. To the trifecta of bands that basically shaped this whole thing due to my constant listening of them: ThouShaltNot, Evanescence, and Nightwish (the entire series, actually, exists as it does thanks to the Nightwish song 'End of All Hope'). Okay, I'll stop being boring now.

_Invader Zim_ is -c- Jhonen Vasquez! Only the events of this story (and the character tweaking, heh) are mine.

All musical credit is given at the end of the chapter.

Have fun! :3

~Jizena~

**– – –**

**Invader Zim:**

**~The Mandylion Saga~**

**~_Part One: Changes _~**

_Dib's Records_

I'll begin with a memory.

My mother had green eyes. They were so drastically different from the bland, standard brown my father had passed to my younger sister and myself. Mom was different, and I'd always known she was. She would smile and pick me up, read to me, sing to me, teach me things I desperately wanted to know.

_ "What shall I read to you tonight, Dib?" she asked me._

_ "Tonight I'll read to you," I boasted. I was two years old._

_ I read her a poem. I've forgotten which one it was._

Fast forward two years, and she was out of my life completely. When I was four, Dad changed, and my life became defining myself by not being anything like him. I kept my hair like his though, because deep down, I wanted him to respect me, if not maybe even like me again.

Fast forward a few more years.

No, wait, I have the specific day. March 30, 2001: the Irken Invasion began. The Invader, Zim, sent to carry out that Invasion, wasn't much back then. February 2002: a new player entered... Tak. Much more formidable than Zim.

That's a good place to start. With Tak. She's basically the reason any of this happened.

– – –

"You're never going to get that thing to break out of orbit," my sister snarled at me. I was making modifications on Tak's Spittle Runner for the twentieth time that week. The Spittle Runner, Tak's own redesign of a common Irken Armada vessel, had caught me by surprise not long before, and I was obsessed with it. I was bound and determined to get it flying out of Earth's orbit; it would aid me in several ways as far as exposing the Irkens' plan to everyone on this planet went.

Sometimes, the thought would come to mind that Earth was _begging_ to be destroyed. Nobody cared. Nobody listened. It made no sense to me. _Why does my race have to be so stupid?_ I wondered. Much more, I'd begun to understand my arch-enemy's reasoning in hating humans so much. Begun to understand, yes... but I hardly sympathized.

In any case, another hope (as far as piloting the Spittle Runner went) was that I could find other planets threatened by the Irken Empire and hopefully gain a few allies that would lend Earth a hand since, well, Earth may just have been as doomed as Zim said it was.

As of that particular day, I was only aware of certain elements of what the Irkens were calling "Operation: Impending Doom II" (the "II" coming, apparently, from the failed attempts of the _first_ O:ID thanks to my old nemesis, Zim). The objective of the Operation was simple enough: conquer as many planets as the Irken Army had Invaders to conquer them, thus expanding the Empire to the vast reaches of various galaxies. To what aim, I did not know, but most conquest, even among our own countries here on Earth, can be simply attributed to the want for more power, and more resources. Most of the planets deemed fit to conquer had, apparently, already fallen. Earth was holding on thanks to Zim's stupidity, though even that was nothing constant in him these days.

For starters, I'll give the run-down on the Irkens I knew, at that point, about:

Starting with the Tallest. Their names were nothing to write home about—I had heard Zim refer to them as simply _Red_ and _Purple,_ so named for the colors of their respective eyes—but their height was something to be admired. The Irkens, on the whole, are a race of fairly short subjects, all clones stemming between 4'5" and 5'2" well into adult years. The Tallest, both of whom I had seen on screen in Zim's sad excuse for a base before, I could estimate to be well over six feet tall, thus proving them to have been 'chosen' to lead the Empire. The reign was split betwen the two, and I had no knowlege yet of whether or not this was a precedent or a fluke, or whether the two—both male and both of apparently the same age—had simply been cloned from the same Tallest ancestor. Their power seemed to lie primarily in military tactics, however, while the actual governing of the race was determined by ancient, PAK-like computers known as the Control Brains. Those, I am sad to say, were subjects I had yet to thoroughly study, though I was determined to unearth more information about them.

Under the Tallest was the Army, split into Invaders—the best of the best, Fleet Commanders, Guards, Advisors, Footsoldiers, and, lastly, Service Drones. Each Irken clone, to my understanding, had one of three potentials at birth: Drone, Soldier, or Advisor. The Soldiers were most abundant, and thus could train for any branch of the Army, whereas Drones and Advisors had their work cut out for them from day one. All Irkens are bred in body as clones, and, once having completed gestation, are fitted with a uniquely coded computerized organ known as a PAK. PAKs are complex and serve many functions, among them: knowlege retention, life support, longevity, and several mechanical tricks an Irken can hone throughout training, such protruding metal, cyborgian spider legs—used both for speed and attack, laser shots, atmosphere regulation, limited levitation, holographic design, and teleportation. PAKs are, again, unique to the individual to which they become attached. If the host body is disconnected, the PAK will seek out another host to latch onto, thus imbibing the new host with the life and personality of the former one.

It is possible, I have also learned, for PAKs to become corrupted, or even tampered with. Such a case to prove this point is Zim himself. Zim, given the title of Invader merely to get him out of the way of the real Operation, is classified as a Defective, which is the label given to those whose PAKs are insufficiently coordinated. What happened to him exactly that gave him that label was still unknown to me, but I had several clues to point me in the right direction of finding out.

Tak was an utterly different example. While sound in PAK structure, I was convinced that she was of unsound mind. Then again, I knew only Tak and Zim as examples of the Irken race, and only one of the two was known to be irregular. Tak, for all I knew, was more like the rest of the population. Driven, erratic, wildly insane, and, above all, omnicidal. Tak had dealt us blows with both natural and psychological warfare. She knew her enemy, and she knew how to attack. She only lacked organization.

Zim, on the other hand, 'knew the enemy' a bit too well. The September after I turned eleven, and was entering sixth grade, Tak had returned with a new plan, which radically changed all of us involved: myself, my sister Gaz, and Zim. Gaz and I now referred to that week as simply the Incident, since saying 'time warp' around anyone else was sure to draw attention we did not want. The time warp itself proved to be little more than a distraction in Tak's real plan: eradicating Zim by methods other than murder. By fast forwarding time, for what turned out to be eight days, Tak had us stuck living our lives under the worldwide assumption that life and time had progressed five years—in other words, I was aged to sixteen, Gaz to fifteen, the rest of the world, same basic jump, you get the idea. Zim was flung into a much more fitting hell: Tak had reconstructed his DNA, and temporarily turned him human.

She had achieved both of these feats with help from two machines originally invented by a previous Tallest, known as Miyuki. Tallest Miyuki was another enigma that eluded my Irken research. Touring other worlds in the Spittle Runner, I thought, could possibly set me on the right track to learning more about her, and piecing the entire Incident together. Whoever the late Tallest had been, she had been powerful, and her work seemed to be without rival. My own father, time-wasting bastard he was, had always been an inventor himself, but had never touched such complex ideas as DNA transmogrification or time travel... and he, Professor Membrane of worldwide fame (gag me now), was the top of his field. (Going off track here for a second to say that, while Dad is brilliant, he was horribly aloof, mostly crazy, and a terrible, ignorant parent. I'm sure further ranting is in order in that respect. My distaste for his methods is unavoidable.)

Now, Zim, during his time as a human, had changed quite a bit. I used to be able to read that guy like a book; anticipate his next moves precisely. And for the first couple days of the Incident, I still could. Then, things gradually became different. He appeared to enjoy being human. He expressed a liking in his new height and physical strength (at sixteen, lean, and six feet tall, yes, that much could be understandably liked), as well as human sight, taste, and other forms of perception lacking in Irkens. Slowly, his voice had become less brash, his actions less outrageous, his Irken nature more and more subdued. For all intents and purposes, yes: he was, for eight days, human.

That was not without consequence, however. Tak began tampering with his mind. He began to forget basic Irken concepts, growing ever more comfortable with his assumed human life. And then, of course, he threw me through an uncanny loop, and I, to that day, had spent too much time wondering about the cause and effect of it all. Putting it plainly, he had fallen in love.

With my sister.

To make things worse, the feeling was mutual, although, as Gaz had confessed to me, Zim had never found out her side of the whole thing. I was, of course, rather glad that Zim didn't know. In my mind, he had to have just been confused. I knew he was, I just knew it. I mean, sure, going from Irken to human in no time flat would probably screw with anyone's mind. But still... why Gaz? Why my sister? I was starting to believe that it was a subconscious Irken intention: he said he was in love with her purely to piss me off. Well, even if he didn't want that, he'd succeeded.

I was becoming angrier than ever at my enemy. I'd seen how my sister was acting in the time after Zim became Irken again. She was trying so hard to work herself back into her old mindframe, her old thoughts and habits, but she just looked so lonely. And the worst part was, I couldn't do anything about it. She still loved him. No matter how horribly he screwed her over during the Incident, she still had feelings for him, and I felt so sorry for her. I hated Zim more than ever for what he did to her. To think: my enemy broke my sister's heart. If that wasn't motivation enough to destroy him now, nothing was.

He was going to pay.

And that Spittle Runner was somehow going to help me. Somehow, I was going to get my answers. I was bound and determined to draw up a full Irken case file, to stop the Invasion before it could start. The Swollen Eyeball Organization, a paranormal society to which I had belonged since I was about eight, had a small army itself. All I had to do was convince the SEO that the Invasion was worth our time, and I'd have Zim pinned. The prospect of alien help delighted me, as well. Surely there were other races out there, as equally fed up with the Irkens as I was.

Now, I was doing most of this behind Gaz's back, even though we had, during the Incident, become quite close as siblings, and shared more with each other now than we ever had. Gaz had been doing some investigating in her own right, though hers was purely family-oriented: she had begun digging around the house, trying to find out more about our mother. It was purely busy work, but I had to applaud her, since talking about Mom was the only thing that got her mind off of Zim.

So, that afternoon, it was no surprise that she began mocking my use of the Spittle Runner. "Even if I don't get it to fly," I told her, "it's a great resource. I'm pulling more information off of this every day."

"Don't be like Dad," she warned me, for the umpteenth time.

I took a second to take in her stance: arms folded across her darker than midnight dress, eyes narrowed to points beneath heavy black makeup, feet—in black boots—squared to show that she was not about to move. I knew what she meant, of course: _Don't be like Dad._ It translated to: _Don't get lost in your work._ It was the only phrase that she could use against me. I despised my father's work. Comparing me to him was the last thing I wanted anyone to do. That comment ended my night of work on the Runner, and I spent the rest of the afternoon and evening instead on trying to figure out what on Earth would make my sister even marginally happy. I let her talk about Finland—which was the closest she could get to finding out about or Finnish-born mother, whose name we could not remember (incidentally, we didn't know Dad's real name, either)—and amused her by letting her beat me at yet another video game, but, at the end of the night, she still plodded off to bed depressed.

It hurt that I, as her brother, could do nothing. It hurt me that Zim, an Irken, my sworn enemy, was the only one from whom Gaz would accept comfort now. Of course, they had not spoken since the Incident ended. In fact, Gaz generally avoided him, for fear of how he'd act out toward her now that he was Irken again. I liked it, of course, but her anger and loneliness was almost too much to bear. She wanted Zim back as he had been, and neither of us had any idea whether or not that was possible, probable, or—and this was the part she never spoke of—even something he still wanted.

– – –

Not long after the Incident, I started getting taller.

I'd grown two inches in four months, and I was still feeling growing pains. I honestly didn't think guys my age started with those crazy growth spurts until age fourteen our so, but there I was at eleven... still pretty short for my age, but already a lot taller than I thought I could be. It scared me, because I was still growing, and I began to fear how tall I'd be by the following August, when I turned twelve. I was already a lot taller than my sister.

Whenever my height depressed, me, though, I'd just say to myself: _At least I'm taller than that damn Irken, Zim._

I had a sort of superiority complex when it came to the Me vs. Zim issue. Ever since he'd first arrived, I did whatever I could to prove that humans were better than Irkens. Then again, I've always been a lot more intelligent than any of the kids in my class. Gaz is incredibly smart, too... she simply chose not to care, so it was reflected less in her grades. I learned how to talk at a very early age, and began reading not long after that.

I just never thought I'd start in on growth spurts sooner than anyone else. That had nothing to do with intelligence. Sure, my father has always been tall. Maybe I'm just too easily surprised by some things. 'Normal' things more than others.

Something quite less than normal, however, and much more disconcerting, was the issue of my eyes. During the Incident, there had been a day during which Tak's robot assistant, MiMi (Tak's self-made version of the Invader tool known as a SIR), had infiltrated Gaz's computer, and somehow sent out a signal that had literally sparked something in the room. For a few minutes, she had turned my eyes red. As in, Irken red. It was almost no secret that Tak wanted me to side with her, and I knew full well that she had a transmogrification unit at her disposal. I wasn't about to let her trick me, though: I kept on telling myself I'd never let her catch me and turn me Irken the way she'd turned Zim human. Even so, every once in a while, when I looked at my reflection, I'd see little bits of red in my brown eyes. It could have been the light, though.

Whatever.

– – –

And then, one evening, life took a turn for the better.

_"YES!"_ I cried, feeling more triumphant than I had in months. "Finally!"

The Spittle Runner was functioning perfectly. I never thought I'd get it done so quickly; it had been five months since the Incident, and I'd already successfully flown the Runner to different towns and back in a single night several times, but this was one run I was actually proud of.

I'd made it to the opposite coast and back_._ In _one night!_

When I landed the Runner in the backyard on that incredible February night, I actually felt, for the first time in my life, that I was about to do something _terribly_ significant. I'd hoped to really get things done before, I'd hoped to make an impact on humanity, but now... now I could actually use this thing to not only my advantage, but the entire planet's.

"Gaz!" I shouted, bolting into the house and up the stairs. I saw that her door was open, so I stepped in a little. "Gaz, I did it! The thing's working better than _ever!"_

"That's great," she groaned. "Congratulations."

She was doing something I'd caught her doing at least one hundred times since we'd returned to our proper time sphere: she was lying on her bed, using the sweatshirt that had belonged to Zim during the Incident as a pillow, turning a small box around in her hands, studying it thoroughly, deep in thought.

"I'm kinda busy," she added to her previous comment.

I sighed and leaned against her doorframe. "Let it _go,_ Gaz," I suggested, folding my arms. "It'll be a lot easier if you do. Just open the box, whatever, see what's in there, feel glad about it, and move on. I mean, I know you hope a part of him is still human and all, but... have you seen how he's been acting, lately? He's back to his old tricks. That was a one-time deal, Gaz; he's not coming back."

"Shut up!" she barked at me, setting the box down and jumping off her bed to threaten me. "Just shut up! You have no idea what you're talking about, Dib! No idea! How can you say there's nothing human about him now? Have you even _looked_ at his arm? He still has trouble with his arm! He must have a scar there! There's still hope left!"

I found it strange that we weren't even saying his name. I found it stranger still that I'd actually considered him a friend for a week.

We were, of course, referring to Zim. We'd seen it with our own eyes: he _was_ human. He was a lot more human than even the two of us may seem at times. The thing is, though, he wasn't himself when he was human. Something happened to his mind during the Incident that completely reformed him. Had he always been human, had he always acted like that, I'm sure the two of us actually could be friends... maybe even partners in study_._ Instead, it seemed almost as if he'd completely given up on everything that had happened to him.

He had acted strange for the first couple of months after the Incident. Until December, actually, he acted incredibly human. I even saw him go red whenever he passed by my sister. He'd blush and clear his throat, then shake his head and walk on.

But now he was a lot more like his regular Irken self. He'd started referring to himself as an Invader again; he had a few new plans for world conquest.

I, of course, was right there to stop him every time.

I still felt sorry for my sister, though. Gaz and I got very close during Tak's Time Warp, and it really pained me to see her like this.

"Gaz..." I tried.

"Just leave me _alone,_ Dib," Gaz snarled, turning her back on me. "Go away."

"Can't I just—"

"I _said,_ go_ away!"_

Gaz spun around again, and I saw tears forming at the corners of her eyes. She glared at me piercingly, full of anger and sadness. I sighed again and turned to leave. "Sorry," I apologized sincerely. "I'm really not being much of a help, am I?"

"No," she spat. "You're not."

I decided to tell her about my Spittle Runner triumph later, and walked down the hall into my own room. Once inside, I pressed my back against the door and slid to the ground. My entire body started to ache.

"Oh, man, not again," I groaned. "This is insane... why am I growing so fast?"

I held my head and thought of the Incident. When I'd measured myself, I was 5'11" exactly. One inch shy of six feet. It was a pretty scary thing at first, since I've always been rather small for my age... and then I ended up being one of the tallest in my class. Practically as tall as my _father,_ even, which initially was an eerier concept still.

I pulled off my boots. I hadn't had the time to buy new ones, and these were pinching my feet. Rubbing my ankles to ease the discomfort, I silently begged the growing pains to subside. _Go ahead and bug me when I'm thirteen or fourteen,_ I scolded the inevitable. _I'm way too young to have such annoying growth spurts._

At the rate I was growing, I started to wonder if I'd actually pass 5'11" by the time I was really sixteen, and Tak's Warp merely was an assumption of the height I'd acquire.

"Dammit," I spat.

I angrily got up and dragged myself into the bathroom to grab some pain relievers. As I was opening the bottle, I concluded that I'd have grown at least another inch by the end of the month.

When I got back to my room, a thought suddenly hit me: it was February. The anniversary of the first time that damn Tak entered our lives. "I can't believe I ever actually _liked_ her," I muttered to myself, pulling off my trench coat.

I noticed that too much of my forearm was being exposed; the long-sleeved shirts I usually wore under my trench coats weren't long enough anymore. Angrily, I tore the sleeves, creating a regular t-shirt.

The thing that bugged me the most about my rapidly increasing height was that Gaz hadn't grown a single bit. I always thought that girls were the ones to grow when they were younger, and guys had to wait a while and then keep growing until age nineteen or twenty.

Well, I was either wrong, or an exception to the unwritten rule.

When I finally laid down in my bed that night, I stayed flat on my back, wide awake, for at least an hour, contemplating what was going to happen in the future. The first thing that came to mind was, of course, my height. "Am I going to be taller than 5'11" eventually?" I wondered out loud. (I tended to talk to myself a lot.) I slapped a hand to my forehead. "Six feet, maybe? _Taller?_ God..."

The second thing that came to mind was my rivalry with Zim. Sure, he had a few plans here and there, but for the most part, he was holding back. He wasn't even going out of his way to annoy me like he usually did, causing me to hold back as well. Which, I realized, might just have been his plan. Confuse me, make me think he still has a trace of human decency left in him, then kill me or whatever and surreptitiously take over the Earth.

I then started thinking about the Spittle Runner. I resolved that the second the school year was over, I'd work day in and day out trying to break the stratosphere with that thing. I grinned. Thank God Tak had lost it. Thank God it was in my hands now and not hers. I could even use the Runner to get back at _her_ for all the misfortune she'd brought upon us.

The last conscious thought I had that night was about Tak:

_"Bitch."_

– – –

The next day at school, I felt incredibly groggy. I was swallowing aspirin like crazy all day, trying to get rid of the irritating growing pains. I think I used up an entire container that day alone. _Screw an inch by the end of the month,_ I thought to myself instead of listening to the lecture in class, _try two, maybe three inches at least._

Trying to get my mind off of that for awhile, I glanced discreetly over at Zim, who looked just as bored as I currently was. He had his head propped up with his left hand, and was just staring down contemplatively at his right, turning it over and back.

"Why do you do that?" I asked him as I passed his desk after the bell rang for the lunch period.

"Eh?" he asked, looking at me angrily with his fake blue eyes. "Do what?"

"Stare at your hands all the time," I said hastily. "You've been doing it for months now."

"Why do you even care, _Dib?"_ he spat, hissing my name. "Do you really have nothing better to do than study my every move? Maybe I should ask _you_ why you do _that!"_

I just scowled at him and turned away.

I found my sister in the lunchroom, but didn't eat anything.

"I thought all people did during growth spurts was eat stuff," Gaz shot at me, giving me an odd glare.

"I hurt too much to eat," I replied. "Right now I don't care if I never eat again."

"So why aren't you and Zim fighting today?" Gaz asked, changing the subject.

"Don't really care," I answered. I glanced over at my enemy. "Look at him; I think he's just starting to realize now that he has absolutely no chance of taking over the world. He's been laying off a lot with the whole 'dooming the Earth' thing."

"Or maybe he still wants to be human," Gaz suggested hopefully.

"Go ahead and ask him," I grumbled, taking out some more pain relief tablets and throwing them into my mouth. "I highly doubt it."

"Well, _you_ sure are a lot of fun today," Gaz snarled.

I swallowed the aspirin unemotionally and didn't respond.

The rest of the day dragged on. By the time I walked through the door of the house that afternoon, I felt like I'd just spent ten years in the same building, with no respite at all.

Breaking from my usual routine of tuning up the Spittle Runner after school, I walked immediately up to my room to measure my height. I stepped away from the wall and almost fainted when I saw how many centimeters had been tacked on to my height in just that day. Putting things into perspective, I realized I might actually grow an inch by the end of that _week._

I darted into the bathroom and broke open another bottle of pain relievers, swallowing two tablets immediately. "Dammit, dammit, dammit," I cursed, leaning against the wall. "How much more annoying can this _get?"_

I hissed out a long breath and, aspirin bottle in hand, started back down the hall. I made a promise to myself that I'd buy new boots by the end of the week, and new clothes by the end of the month.

I hadn't gotten far when I heard guitar music coming from my sister's room. Deciding that it might take my mind off of the pain I was experiencing, I turned around and walked to her room instead of mine.

"I don't know much at all," Gaz was singing lightly as she strummed out chord after chord on her guitar, "I don't know wrong from right..."

She stopped abruptly and spat, "Crap!" She then glanced over at me and shot me one of her piercing glares. "What do you think you're doing?" she demanded.

"Listening," I replied with a shrug.

"Well, don't. I suck."

"No, you don't, honestly," I told her, tossing the aspirin bottle back and forth between my hands. "It's a lot more enjoyable than most of the stuff they play on the radio."

"They _make_ CDs," Gaz shot at me.

"Live music is always better," I returned with a grin.

"I thought you hated music." Actually, this was true. I didn't like listening to music. I hadn't for a long time. After a beat, Gaz added, "You're really tall."

"No kidding," I groaned, rolling my eyes. "It's really draining my energy, too."

"I've kinda noticed," Gaz said, setting down her guitar. "You really haven't been acting like yourself these past few months."

"Neither have you," I accidentally responded.

"What the hell is _that_ supposed to mean?"

"Nothing! Nothing!" I covered quickly, holding up a hand to stop any confrontation. "What I mean is... none of us has been the same since the Incident. Well, GIR, but that's a given. I mean, you, me, even—"

"Zim," Gaz finished, obviously just wanting an excuse to say the name of the person she once loved. She sighed and hung her head. "It's not fair," she commented.

I didn't respond; I didn't quite know what to say. On one hand, yes, I was quite near overjoyed that Zim had been leaving her alone, and she him. The 'love' thing had dissipated, for all I knew and liked to think, but there was something even I missed about Zim being human: in him, Gaz had found a friend. Gaz, my sister, the loner by choice. She'd never sought out companionship before. Now that she'd had a taste, it had been taken from her. I of all people knew what it was like to be forced to be alone (I've never been well liked in school), but I'd always at least had one or two people from the SEO to talk to. Gaz had, until the Incident, no one. And she had no one again, except me, but I was family so I doubt that counted in the same way to her.

It didn't help that Zim had left her a gift, with instructions to open it some time around when Gaz would turn thirteen. That thing would haunt her for the next three years, and continue teasing her with the memories of that one life-altering week.

"Hey," Gaz said, changing the subject, "don't you think it's weird that we both kinda brought items back from the 'future?'"

"Huh?"

"Me with the box and sweatshirt, and you with your modified..."

"Spittle Runner."

"Right, that. It's weird, isn't it?"

"A lot has been weird since Zim came a couple years ago," I shrugged. "I guess this is just one more thing."

"I suppose. I dunno. It just seems a little more significant, that's all."

"Could be."

Gaz raised an eyebrow. "You know," she said, "typically, _you'd_ be the one pointing all this stuff out. You've been acting really... I dunno... _normal."_

"What do you mean, 'normal?'" I wanted to know.

"Normal," Gaz explained, "as in not supernatural-paranormal freak. As in regular person. Nonbeliever. Skeptic."

"I'm not a skeptic!" I retorted in defense. "I'm just in immense amounts of pain and don't really have the energy to think about anything else!"

"Okay, jeez, fine," Gaz grumbled, looking away. "I was just saying... that's all."

"Sorry," I sighed. "I'm kinda edgy."

"Yeah, I know."

After another pause, Gaz broke the silence by saying, "Hey, Dib?"

"Yeah?"

"When do you think it's going to happen?"

"When is what going to happen?"

"The war." I was speechless once again. I just stared at my younger sister, waiting for her to embellish on her thought. "There's bound to be one," she went on. "A human-Irken war. When do you think it's going to happen?"

"Judging by the Incident," I replied, finally understanding, "not for another five or six years."

"It might be sooner now, since that was just Tak being stupid."

"Could be, I guess."

Gaz shrugged and didn't say anything after that, so I just retired to my room, once again feeling uncomfortable with my height and how quickly I was growing. The day after the Incident... well, I can't give an exact figure of how tall I was, but only a few months afterward, I stood at 4'10" plus an additional half inch. I'm sure that was at least five inches (yes, I was that short). I started to feel sick, and contemplated swallowing the entire bottle of pain relief tablets, but decided that it really wasn't worth risking anything.

– – –

As far as Tak went, I could not put into words what I thought of her at that time. When she first came to Earth, I liked her. During the Incident, well... so my sister was right. I was a little jealous that Zim was actually human for her... and all Tak did was lie to me. All she ever did was lie. That was the only thing I knew to be true about her.

I just wondered when she was going to be back. It wasn't a wish or anything; I mean, I certainly didn't still like her enough to want to say, "Hey, let's start over with everything," because she wasn't human, and she was one Irken I knew never would be. The main thing I wanted to do was just get back at her. Thank her for the Spittle Runner? Nah. Just... get back. _Somehow,_ I told myself, _I'll definitely get even for everything she's done._

Zim was going to be a little tougher to get back at. He was acting way too strange. Perhaps Gaz was right. Perhaps he actually did want to be human still. He did _say_ something like that during the Incident, didn't he?

_Wow... _I thought,_ if he was human... if he fought for us..._

_NO!_ I shouted at myself._ No. I can't think like that. He's the enemy. He always has been and he always will be. Nothing can reform him. He's Invader Zim. I won't let him hurt my sister anymore._

– – –

"It's _over,_ Zim!" I shouted as I chased the troublesome alien down the street for the thousandth time. "Just give up now!"

"Get away from me!" he hollered back. He glanced over his shoulder and narrowed his eyes, then opened his PAK to reveal a small energy cannon. He sent a blast at me which I quickly dodged.

"It's gonna take more than your old tricks to wear me down!" I yelled, pulling a syringe out of my trench coat pocket. The trick had worked on Tak before: I knew that this truth serum worked on Irkens. "You'll confess eventually, I'll make sure of it!"

"Stop chasing me!"

I hurled the syringe at Zim and it stuck into his neck. He yelped and slapped his hand to his neck but kept on running. He pulled out the needle angrily and threw it back at me. I caught it in mid-stride and continued chasing down the alien.

By that time, we'd reached the block on which he'd set up his base of operations only two years before. "Ha!" he spat, rushing up to his base. "Nice try, _Dib,_ but you'll have to be quicker than—" At that exact moment, GIR had come tearing out of the base, and the two collided immediately. "Ow!" Zim yelled, picking himself up. GIR made a triumphant noise.

I smirked and picked Zim up by the collar, then rammed him into the fence surrounding his base. Holding the needle dangerously close to his neck, I growled, "Now tell me, Zim! Give me the coordinates of your home planet! Where is Irk in relation to here? Tell me now or I'll _force_ it out of you!"

"Let _go_ of me!" Zim choked, trying to writhe free of my grip. I grinned and drove the syringe into his neck. "Goddammit!" he shouted. Zim extended his spider legs and shot a blast at me, sending me sprawling backward. Those lasers could pack an awful punch, but the taste of asphalt was sadly nothing new to me, and I'd been scuffed up worse.

"You gots a needle in you!" GIR squealed happily, pointing at Zim's neck like it was the revelation of the century.

"Yeah, I _know,_ GIR," Zim shot back, pulling out the syringe and glaring at the robot. Just as I was picking myself up, Zim walked over to me and stepped down hard on my right hand.

"Ow!" I spat. "Hey! Get off!"

Zim leaned down and yanked at the long part of my hair, jerking my head up.

"Ow, ow, OW!" I yelped, knowing that if I tried to free myself it would only hurt worse.

"Even though you've gotten taller, you're still pathetic," Zim snarled at me, narrowing his eyes. "Are you really stupid enough to think I'd do something as foolish as to give you the coordinates to Irk?"

"Um... yes," I replied flatly, despite how much my head hurt.

"Shut up!" barked Zim. "Why do you _need_ them, anyway?"

"Moron," I growled at him. "Did you forget that I have Tak's old Spittle Runner, now?"

Zim burst out laughing—a coarse, almost barking sound, full of utmost superiority. "You couldn't pilot that thing if your life depended on it!"

"What are you talking about?" I shouted at him. I started to develop an irritating headache, but I continued nonetheless. "I've piloted an entire _planet_ before! Did you forget about that?"

"Heh," Zim snorted. "I find it surprising that a _human_ could match an Irken's piloting skills. Hey..." he added after a second of thought, his face contorting as his mind slowly caught on, "you're not planning on trying to _destroy_ Irk, are you?"

"Well, _you're_ planning on destroying the Earth!" I reminded him.

"Maybe so, but all your inhabitants live here," Zim said with a smirk. "You won't find anything on Irk but computers and random traces of Tavis, and the computers are backed up elsewhere, but you'll never find them. Not even _we_ know where the backups are."

"Well, I'll just make you tell me _that," _I shot at him, trying to ignore my headache. "And what the hell is Tavis, anyway?"

"Nothing that would interest _you,_ human."

"You're the most incompetent asshole I've ever—"

"Silence!" Zim commanded.

I looked down at his right hand, in which he was loosely keeping hold of the syringe still. I quickly grabbed the syringe and drove the needle deep into Zim's upper right arm and injected the truth serum.

Zim screamed in pain and dropped me, stumbling back, clutching his right arm gingerly. I tossed the syringe to the side and stood, brushing myself off. Zim fell to his knees and doubled over in pain, still lightly gripping his upper right arm. I knew that would work. During the Incident, Tak had carved an awful gash in Zim's upper right arm, which caused him more discomfort and pain than anything I had ever yet to experience. He plowed through it, but every time that area was irritated too rashly, he'd be nearly incapacitated. As an Irken, that area never bled as it had when he was human, but it was still his ultimate weak spot.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" he yelled at me, wincing. His voice was noticeably weaker, and he made no attempts to stand.

"That's a pretty easy question to answer," I replied, folding my arms.

Zim snarled at me, then winced again, clutching his arm in pain. Hanging his head, he instructed of his robot companion, "GIR... go in the house... quickly... get me that antidote..."

"Aaaw, you don't need—"

"NOW, GIR!" Zim snapped.

"Okie-dokie!" GIR zoomed back into the base.

"Antidote?" I asked skeptically, raising an eyebrow. "An antidote to truth serums?"

"No, you _idiot,_ the antidote that prevents me from acting—" Zim gasped and drew his hand away from his arm, slapping it instead over his mouth. "Goddammit," he cursed. "This really does work..."

I stepped up to him and glared down at him darkly, trying to be as foreboding as I could so that he'd give in and tell the truth about everything. "Antidote that prevents you from _what?"_ I demanded.

Zim struggled, trying to fight the effects of the truth serum. He growled loudly, and then the words just seemed to come out. "It prevents me from acting human!" he shouted angrily.

I gasped and took a few startled steps back. "Wh-_what?"_

"You heard me," Zim said in a rather sad tone, hanging his head and clutching his arm again. "It's an Irken formula for abnormality suppression. Without it, I snap. Sometimes, I don't just _act_ human, I think that I _am._ Goddammit, I'm already starting to slip..."

I had no idea what could have been wrong, but I had to believe him... that truth serum was flawless. An internal struggle immediately started up: _should I tell Gaz? _It was an awful dilemma. On one hand, I figured that it was her right to know, but, on the other, she'd either get way too excited or way too depressed to hear that Zim was still basically human on the inside.

As though he'd been reading my thoughts, Zim said quietly, "Gaz..." He looked up at me almost pleadingly, still cringing from the pain in his upper right arm. "Where is she? Is she okay? Does she..." he hung his head yet again, "does she remember at all?"

His voice sounded hollow and lonely, and I almost felt sorry for him. "Jeez," I found myself saying. "You really _are_ human..."

Zim lifted his head again and looked at me skeptically. "Of course I am," he said, as though I'd made a mistake. "Why wouldn't I—"

At that moment, GIR streaked out of the base again and presented a small, round pill. He dropped it into Zim's right hand and once again let out a triumphant squeal.

Zim looked down at the item hesitantly, then closed his fist around it. "Oh..." he said quietly, "right. Th-that's right... I'm not..."

I had absolutely no idea what to do at this point. It was true: Zim was acting human. During the Incident, yes, he'd gotten so used to his human frame of mind that he'd actually forgotten a lot about being Irken, and it seemed as though, without this antidote, that was somehow continuing. The question now was what I was going to do with that information.

My process for two years now had been: track Zim, log his movements, log his plans, gather as much Irken information to use against the Armada as possible. The ultimate goal was, of course, catch him. Win, in other words. At the beginning, my goal had been autopsy. Alien study. Now, my ideas centered more around keeping him alive for information. Making him share Irken secrets, such as space travel, computer advancements, and things like that.

This human issue had no place in any of my previous plans. The more human Zim became, the less useful he'd be to my studying and presenting more about other worlds. I had planned from a young age to be a professional paranormal investigator; maybe set up my own research lab, joined with the SEO somehow, if all went well. The Irken Invasion was the perfect catalyst for setting my dreams in motion.

So Goddammit, why did Zim have to settle so easily into _being human?_ And being human, of course, had the catch of being around my sister, which left a sour taste in my mouth no matter how I looked at it. Gaz with the enemy? No way in Hell. I wasn't about to lose the only family I had, not to the Irkens. Not to Zim.

He just had to go and ruin it. Just before he took the antidote, Zim begged, "Don't tell Gaz." With that, he swallowed the tablet and got back onto his feet. He underwent the quickest personality switch I'd ever witnessed, following up the first statement with, "You're gonna have to try harder than that, _human!_ It'll take a lot more than your filthy truth serum to get anything out of _Zim!"_

GIR cheered, then shrieked, "Yay! I have no idea what's going on!"

"Come on, GIR," Zim barked at the little robot, turning his back on me and walking headstrong into the base.

I just stood there staring after them for a moment, then shook my head, trying to piece things together. Unable to do that, I simply yelled to no one, _"What the hell just happened?"_

– – –

"You went chasing after Zim again, didn't you?"

Gaz was on the sofa, plucking the strings of her guitar, looking very bored and even more distant. Being a Saturday, she'd arranged and styled her violet hair, which she was starting to grow out. She'd worn her hair similarly every Saturday since her 'date' with Zim during the Incident, since she'd had it done like that on that particular day. She was also, for some reason, wearing Zim's sweatshirt. It was huge on her petite ten-year-old frame, but she still wore it. I suppose that's why she wasn't playing any actual songs on her guitar: the long sleeves hindered her hand movements.

"Why do you ask?" I wondered.

"You look like you've been shot by a laser cannon or something," Gaz observed. "Your trench coat's all screwed up. You went chasing after Zim again, didn't you?" she asked me again.

"I was just trying to get some answers out of him," I replied.

"Did you get any?"

_More than I would have liked,_ I wanted to say. Instead, I shrugged and said, "You know Zim."

"Yeah," Gaz grumbled. "I do."

I slapped a hand to my forehead. Gaz was getting easier to upset by the day. "Dammit, Gaz, I didn't mean that," I tried to tell her.

"Well, what _did_ you mean?" she spat at me, abruptly stopping her guitar playing. "Tell me or I'll smash this guitar over your big head!"

At that moment, I snapped. I'd been getting enough abuse from her lately, and this was just the point at which I could take no more. "For the love of God, Gaz, stop living in the past!" I shouted at my sister. "It's over! It's done! It's gone! That time—"

"That time was the _future,_ Dib!" Gaz refuted, setting her guitar aside and shooting me a piercing glare.

"What's to say it's going to happen again?" I yelled. "That was an _accident,_ Gaz! _An accident!_ It was just Tak messing around with us, and—"

"Why do I still have _this,_ then?" Gaz nearly screamed in order to interrupt me, tugging at the sweatshirt. "This isn't even supposed to exist! Why would I have it if he's not going to be human again, huh? What about the—"

I growled in the back of my throat. "The box?" I guessed. I wasn't yelling anymore, but I spoke firmly. "Just open it. Open it and move on!"

"No!" Gaz affirmed. "He said to wait three years, so I'm going to wait three years!"

"Whatever," I groaned, heading towards the stairs.

After a silent moment, Gaz said quietly, "He still says 'Goddammit,' you know."

"What does that—"

"Irkens don't believe in God."

"Well—"

"He never used that phrase before he became human." I walked over to my sister again and she tucked her knees up to her chest, wrapping the sweatshirt tightly around her. "He wouldn't keep on saying it if..." she trailed off. I saw tears forming at the corners of her eyes.

I sighed, realizing I probably should tell her what I'd just witnessed. Zim had asked me not to, but I really hated seeing Gaz so depressed. Besides, who was I to completely listen to him, anyway? I didn't care.

"Gaz..." I began.

"Dib, I want to be alone right now."

"But there's something I really should—"

"Just go." She rested her head on her knees.

"Gaz, I—"

"Go away."

I turned dejectedly and walked toward the stairs again. As I began my ascent to the top floor of the house, I could actually hear my sister start to cry.

– – –

**Song Credits:**

"My Bloody Valentine" - Good Charlotte


	2. Intro 2: This Weakness

**– – –**

**Author's Note:**

_Invader Zim_ is -c- Jhonen Vasquez! Only the events of this story (and the character tweaking, heh) are mine. :3

~Jizena~

**– – –**

_Zim's Records_

If there was one quality about the old me still rooted deep within my spinning mind, it was how much I hated others knowing my weaknesses. That quality remains with me to this day, and it was the one part of me that always survived when I suppressed my memories.

When I mention 'the old me,' I do not mean the human Tak turned me into. I mean the person that, at that particular point in time, I did not remember. The Irken I was before I became an Invader... the Irken I was during the first sixty years of my life before I willingly removed those years from memory.

My missing past was something everyone knew about. Even me. I'd erased it for some reason I no longer knew, but I hadn't started caring until after the Time Warp, during which I'd forgotten more, with Tak's help. Thanks to her, I had not only forgotten vital Irken information, I had also been plagued with random flashes from the past I could not recall, which, as one could understand, became increasingly more nightmarish to the me that had become little more than a forgetful, average human. Yeah, maybe I'd learned to like myself a little better as a human (hard as that was for me to keep on accepting at this point in my life), but still, memories are memories.

In any case, I hated to show my weakness to anyone... especially my mortal enemy. So one would expect, knowing this, that of course I would be absolutely and indefinitely _pissed off_ that Dib knew that I was still battling with my human side, and not without problems from my weakened right arm.

Immediately after he found out, I paced about in my base, eventually losing it, going down into one of my neglected labs, and blasting nearly every object I could possibly find with energy from my PAK.

"Damn it!" I shouted, destroying an already broken generator. "Damn it all to _hell!"_ I aimed at a stack of empty boxes and promptly incinerated them.

"You're going to short-circuit your PAK if you keep that up," my computer warned me in its usual stern, contradictory tone. MiniMoose—which had somehow found its way into the lab as well—gave a squeak of agreement.

"I don't need your opinions!" I yelled harshly, aiming my PAK at the ceiling and blasting the speakers, making it so that the computer couldn't interrupt me anymore. I then whipped around and aimed the spider legs at MiniMoose threateningly. "Anything _else_ you want to add, you piece of shit Doomsday device?"

MiniMoose, a small, purple, moose-shaped armageddon experiment gone horribly wrong (and, not to mention, stupid), looked absolutely petrified, and gave not a squeak in reply to my threat. Then again, it didn't move either. I was just about to break it in half when GIR came screaming down into the lab, and the lights turned red, signaling an incoming transmission.

"Whoever is calling me," I growled, "had better have a _damn_ good reason for doing so!"

I retracted the spider legs and stormed into the transmission room, GIR and MiniMoose not far behind. I walked up to the screen and angrily punched at the control board, accepting the transmission. A female Irken flickered into view, and every profane word I knew cycled five times through my head. "YOU!" I snarled when I saw the figure on the wall-length screen. "Not you again!"

"Now, Zim, I can understand why you wouldn't be pleased to see me..." she began, her voice a malice-laced purr.

_"Pleased?"_ I spat. "That's putting it lightly, Tak! I'm _infuriated!_ I'm ending this transmission, _now!"_

"Hear me out first," she said in a tone much calmer than I was expecting of her. If Dib's presence near my base only minutes earlier had been irritating, Tak's presence on my call screen was hands-down unwelcome. I hated her. Every inch of her, from her curled antennae and her crooked smirk to the tips of her madness-producing fingers. While she so often claimed that I had ruined her life, she had done far worse to me: she had altered my sense of reality all together.

"No!" I growled. "I want nothing more to do with you! I—" The antidote started to lose effect; I cried out and held my head, trying to hold in my human tendencies. My conscience—a bother that had remained with me even this long after the warp—was telling me I should speak to her, that I should reason with her and find a way to work things out. "Dammit!" I shouted. I looked back up at the transmission monitor and asked, giving into my human conscience's dominance, "What do you want?"

Tak burst out laughing.

"Hey, shut up!" I snapped, my PAK regaining control over my mind again. Jumping between the presence of a true conscience and the parasitic influence of my PAK was tiring on my body and stressful on my mind, but it happened all too often.

"You have to admit it's amusing, Zim," Tak said, still laughing a little. "I mean, look at you! Ahaha... you're still struggling with your human side, aren't you? Are you really that _weak_ that your conscience would remain even as an Irken? How sad! How absolutely _amusing!"_ And here she burst out laughing again.

I growled in the back of my throat, my hands clenching into fists. "Where are you?" I demanded darkly. "Wherever you are, get down here and fight me! _Fight me!"_

"Not today," Tak said, looking bored. She put her feet up on the control board in front of her, crossing her legs. "I've too much to do. You know," she said, making eye contact with me again, "it seems every time I come to Earth, something goes wrong with my little SIR unit. I've spent the last few Earth months fixing glitches in MiMi's internal drives. Ever since I installed the voice program, she's been quirky."

"Maybe she knows how much of a bitch you are, too," I challenged, folding my arms. "What did you call me for, anyway? What do you want?"

"Just wondering how it's going," Tak answered with a conniving grin. "You _must_ have taken over the Earth by now, haven't you?"

I kicked at the ground angrily, wanting to fight her again. "No... no thanks to you."

"I knew it."

"Shut up!" I commanded. "I've been... distracted!"

"What, by _Gaz?"_ Tak countered, laughing again after making fun of me.

"Dammit, Tak, shut _UP!"_ I cried. "I don't care about her anymore!" My insides flipped. I knew better, but all sides of me remained in the dark as to whether that statement was a truth or a lie. The truth was in the past: for one full week, Gaz had meant more to me than anything I had ever relied on. She had kept me sane, had given me something to look forward to, she had been someone to talk to, to confide in, to help along as she helped me. Having someone there were once I had denied and shut out everyone had been... well, quite honestly, very nice. The fact remained, however, that our companionship was only possible due to my having been human through it all. Now that I was battling for identity between the human frame of mind I had so, for a short time, enjoyed, and the Irken I had been for over a century, things were more complicated than simply figuring out what made me happy. Happiness to a human was companionship. Happiness to an Irken Invader was success, promotion, and hard-earned glory. Power was all too inticing, as long as I was Irken. The lust for power is coded into Irken blood and Irken PAKs. It's merely the way the species functions. One's life is defined by the means by which that power is attained.

"Then perhaps you'll care about the little idea that's been rolling around in my mind instead," Tak suggested.

"Idea?" I wondered.

"I had MiMi hack GIR's systems," Tak went on. I felt like punching her. "Seems you've developed something to help you suppress your human conscience. Am I right?" I didn't respond. "I'll take that for a yes," smirked Tak. Here's the truth: my inventions are shit. I did not develop the antidote, but Tak didn't need to know that. The antidote was actually a version of an old development of Tallest Red's: a behavioral suppressant to sedate prisoners to a state that would get them to comply with demands. "Well... how would you like it if I told you I could get rid of your problem _entirely?"_

"I wouldn't like it at all," I replied, raising an eyebrow, "because I know you're lying. And even if you're not, there's obviously some string attached. You hate me, and I hate you. You turned me into a human, for God's sake!"

"And didn't you _like_ it?"

"Well, of course I—_SHUT UP!"_

"You say that phrase too much," Tak pointed out. "It's not good for you."

"I don't care what you think!" I snarled, getting tired of putting up with her. "If you have something to say, Tak, just say it!"

"My, my, you _do_ still sound human," she said, almost as though she were scolding me. "What _would_ the Tallest think?"

"Would you just knock it _OFF?"_ I yelled at her. "The Tallest don't factor into this!"

"They would if you'd listen to me," Tak muttered, uttering an ancient Irken curse word after her thought. She slapped a hand over her mouth. "Stupid me..." she scolded herself.

"What do the Tallest have to do with anything?" I wondered.

"Nothing," Tak covered. "Now... about that human side of you..."

"I'm sure you still want to treat me like an experiment, huh, Tak?" I guessed. "Let me guess, you're going to tell me there's a glitch in my PAK and it'll be happening to me again."

"Hah! Wouldn't_ that_ be nice. Actually, no," Tak snapped. "There might be a glitch, I don't know. But as far as treating you like an experiment goes... I was actually hoping that perhaps..."

"Forget it, Tak," I muttered.

Tak must have been holding in all of her anger, since she pretty much exploded right then and there. "Fucking human!" she shouted at me. "Doesn't it bother you that you could be better? You could be _perfect?_ Doesn't it bother you that you can't be like _me?"_

"You're pathetic!" I hollered back at her. "What makes you think I'd want to be like you? I'm nothing like you! I'm—"

"Human!" Tak finished. "And you always have been!" She calmed herself a little and added, "Well... maybe not always."

"What was that last part?" I wondered.

Tak let out a harsh sigh. "You used to be so..." she shut her mouth and pretended she didn't say anything.

"So... _what?"_ I demanded. "Wait a minute... is this about—_what do you know about me?"_

"I don't know anything!" Tak covered, shouting again. "It simply pisses me off to see the potential that you have going to waste! I bet you don't even know your Doomsday device's limitations! That's sad, Zim! Pathetic! You could be stronger! You could have it all!"

"Well, maybe I don't _want_ it all, Tak!" I spat back at her.

"What in the name of the Empire are you saying?" Tak practically screamed.

"I... I don't know what I want," I admitted. "And thanks to you, I don't even know who I am!"

"Oh, believe me, Zim," said Tak darkly. "If you knew who you really were... you would thank me."

"You do know something about me!" I shouted. "What is it? What do you want, Tak? Why did you contact me? What do you know about my past?"

Tak merely smirked and leaned forward to turn off the transmission.

"No, wait!" I cried. As much as I hated her, I could not deny the fact that she had information. Possibly useful, insightful information. Somehow, I had to get my head around whatever it was she knew. "Just tell me one thing. Just one thing, Tak! Answer me one thing..."

"And what is that?" she wondered.

Hoping that something as vague as what I was about to ask would give me some information I needed, I gathered up the courage and brought forth the question: "How old are you?"

"What kind of stupid question is that?" snorted Tak. "Fine, I'll tell you. According to _Earth_ years, I'd be... maybe... two hundred? Something like that."

_So she's older than me,_ I realized. _She knows something about my early life... she must!_

"Tak, one more thing," I began. "Are you coming back to Earth or what?"

"Sorry," she smirked. "I told you I'd answer only _one_ of your questions."

I scowled, and she turned off the transmission. "What do you know?" I asked aloud, knowing full well I was talking to a black screen. "You're planning something, and it has to do with me and my memories, doesn't it?"

Memories.

What and who was I? Who had I _been? _ Who was I destined to be?

That was the first of many nights during which I was plagued with these and more questions of the most irritating, existential sort. Because of these questions polluting my mind, I sank deeper and deeper into a troubled human mindframe. My conscience continued to get the better of me, until it seemed that my internal Irken self would be lost forever.

One particularly unbearable night, I donned my—now recognizeably awful—disguise and climbed up onto the roof of my base, where I stared out at the city as I wondered what to do next. One answer should have been obvious. I should have been looking out at that city, memorizing its faults in order to design my next point of attack. Nothing of that sort came to mind at all. Instead, I instigated a flash. I must have been feeling particularly manic, in order to do that.

Causing a flash was easy. Flashes, as I had decided to call them, came about when I provoked the injured area of my upper right arm. My Irken healing abilities had caused me to get away with not even a scratch to show that Tak had ever dug a dagger into that spot when I was human, but nothing could make it stop hurting. And irritating it, of course, worsened the pain. During a flash, I would black out, sometimes for a few seconds, sometimes for up to fifteen minutes, and watch a scene with unconscious eyes from the past I could not remember.

The flash that evening lasted only ten seconds. I had hoped it might reveal something about my past connections with Tak—long before I screwed up her test on Devastis, which happened only about fifty years ago—but instead I was shown the interior of a Fleet vessel. Into view came two others, neither of whom the flash gave me any time to place. All I saw was that one was male, one female, both with red eyes. I tried desperately to remember who they were; the flash must have been from a time during my first round of training.

I snapped out of it when I heard GIR screaming something incomprehensible from inside, which somehow triggered the roboparents' auto response. I had created those robots along with the base, all part of the façade, but even they had been altered during the week I'd been human. My arm stung, and I recalled how my mother, the human woman she had been at that point, had taken such care to bandage me up...

_"All right," she said, entering the living room from the kitchen, from which she brought a wet cloth and the first aid kit from under the sink, "sit still, dear, and keep that sleeve rolled up."_

_ This false woman had no business calling me 'dear,' and internally the awkward affection made me cringe, but I complied, positioning myself on the left side of the sofa. My mother sat on my right, and, as I held my sleeve up over my shoulder with my left hand, her face hardened into an expression of deep concern. Then, without another word, she pressed the cold cloth against my skin, soothing the heat from the wound and washing away the fresh and caked blood. I winced, audibly, and blacked out for two seconds, during which I saw the outline of an electrically-charged prison cell. I snapped back to my mother whispering, "Shh," and applying a kind of ointment to the raw area around the open wound. "Honestly, Zim," she said, somehow kindly, "I can't understand how you got cut this badly! Well, nothing we can do now but fix you up..."_

_ I choked out a, "Thanks," between involuntary cringes, then looked on in confused awe as she set the bandage into place._

I closed my eyes and reminisced further, letting my mind wander to my second-to-last day as a human, when I came to after a blast from Tak's PAK laser, finding that it was Gaz applying the bandage around my arm this time, her thin, nimble fingers working timidly but tirelessly to make sure everything was set right.

It troubled me that my Irken nature had all but disappeared entirely. I was somewhere between success and failure, between total confidence and utter misery. Though it was becoming vaguer by the day, memories of being human still stayed, ingrained, in me. I remembered certain sensations... the touch of Gaz's hands on mine, the pressure and texture of water from the shower or rain from the sky... and that incredible experience brought only by the wind. Human, oh—I had loved the wind. Irken, it made little difference, like hot and cold. A sensation was a sensation; that was all. No variety. No change. Nothing enjoyable... not as it was to a human with five or six inate, clarifying senses.

Aha.

If anything, being Irken was... boring.

I could not deny that I had enjoyed being human almost too much. But as great as it had been, it was over. It was over, I was once again Irken, and I supposedly had a mission. Life had never seemed so complicated. Before, I was Invader Zim. I was unstoppable. I knew just what I wanted and went for it, regardless of setbacks. Now... who knew? Not me, not anymore. I missed what I could no longer have. More than missed, I was obsessing over it, which could only mean awful consequences.

Fittingly, when I opened my eyes again, the sun was rising. It was impossible to remember what it had looked like through human eyes. The red filter was back, it had been for a long time—my flawless, red-tinted Irken vision showed little to no difference in the hues of the sunrise. Angrily, I tucked up my knees, folded my arms across them, and pressed my head down, trying to suppress everything. It was seeming more and more obvious that I belonged nowhere. Nothing worth mentioning made sense to me anymore. I'd been altered beyond repair. Tak had really done a number on my ability to function by any sense of the word 'normal.' Kill me now, I thought—I was an Irken with a conscience.

Not wanting to show my weakness to anyone, I later decided that the best thing for me to do was all but erase myself from existence. I recoiled into myself. I did not contact the Tallest anymore. I shut out mentions of my orders. I even updated GIR's software in such a way that he himself would be quieter at most times. He often found ways to snap back to his normal self, but even then he could sense when I needed to be alone. I turned off my base's computer. Much to GIR's dismay, I installed MiniMoose's internal systems with a program binding it to the base. If it left the base, it, and most likely the neighborhood, would be destroyed.

For my health, safety, and sanity, I discontinued coming up with ways to take over the Earth, focusing instead on what could have possibly happened to me in my bleak past. I had only uncovered a few clues. I was not sure whether or not I wanted to recover my memories (as something horrible _must_ have made me want to suppress them in the first place), but it troubled me to the point that I at least wanted to know who I was during the first sixty years of my life, and what Tallest Miyuki had to do with it. The information about Miyuki I'd relearned during the Time Warp had feuled a new obsession. Whether or not I was meant to find out what I'd lost was, obviously, a mystery, but now it was haunting me. It pushed me further into a rather depressed state of mind.

And who knew...

The one who pulled me out of it... was Tak.

– – –

I endured school for a while, then, almost on a whim, regarded it thenceforth useless and stopped going. Nothing was happening the way it used to. Ever since the Time Warp ended, my life had taken a rather unfortunate turn. So, it seemed, had the lives of the others. All Dib did was complain about his growth spurts and try desperately to get a positive word out of his sister. And Gaz... Gaz...

She would _never_ be the same.

Not even the antidote I'd created could hide the feelings I had developed for her during the duration of the Time Warp. I think I hurt her in some way by returning to normal. In several ways, I wanted to be human again, just to say a few more things to her that I knew I could never say as an Irken... because nobody could honestly look me in the eye and believe me. I even remember some of the last words I'd spoken to her being something along the lines of a confession, wanting to be human again.

As I was walking back to my base on my final day of school, I stopped in front of Gaz's house. The road was empty. I hadn't walked down that street since the day that ended my time as a human. Able to think of little else, I looked up at the roof and sighed.

In my mind, I played back the scene: Gaz and I had been fighting on the roof, she working out stress and I working out pent-up anger, trying to understand my humanity. I could almost see it happening again perfectly. We were fighting... it came to a rather harsh end... we talked... we began to understand one another...

...and then we kissed.

I shook my head and growled, "Dammit, Zim, get a hold of yourself!"

_We kissed, we kissed... I loved her..._

"Shut up!" I roared, holding my head, trying to shove out the thoughts. "That's all in the past! It's all in the past!"

_The past... _my_ past..._

I couldn't take it anymore. I used up an eighth of my PAK's energy to teleport myself back to my base. That was the last time I was to look upon Gaz's house through the eyes of an Invader. After that day, I changed.

Once back in the safety of my base, I discarded my pitiful human disguise and punched into the nearest wall. Normally, the spot I hit would have triggered the roboparents, but I had disabled them when I made modifications on MiniMoose and shut down the house computer.

I contemplated leaving Earth at that moment, but I didn't know where I would go. I couldn't go back to the Tallest. There was hardly anything left of Irk, now that it was just one large computer. Devastis would now be a waste of time. Meekrob? Never. Tenn had probably long since conquered it. Foodcourtia? That was a laugh.

"Am I really so alone?" I wondered aloud.

"Not 'cept for me!" GIR announced, walking up to me from behind.

_You just _had_ to ask, didn't you?_ I scolded myself.

"Look, GIR," I said, turning around to face him slowly. "I..."

Just then, the doorbell rang.

Forgetting I was pretty much exposing myself as an Irken, I walked over and opened the door, not caring to look through first. Much to my surprise and utter dismay, Tak was standing on the doorstep, her human hologram—indigo hair and eyes, simple striped dress, grin that I wanted to slap off her face—just as perfect as ever.

I scowled and slammed the door.

"Oh, come _on!"_ she snapped from the other side. I walked further into the front room, not about to allow myself to let her in... not about to allow her the benefit of the doubt.

Seconds later, the door was blasted off its hinges, knocking me into the opposite wall. As I was recuperating, Tak walked in serenely, as though the base were hers.

"You really suck at setting up base, you know that?" she said, folding her arms, her eyes flashing at me. I was nearly sucked in by the effect of the light. Tak's eyes have the ability to hypnotize, when she utilizes the function. She can momentarily gain control of her victims, which is one thing that would make her a worthy Invader.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I demanded of her.

"Just thought I'd drop by, pay you a visit," Tak returned nonchalantly, hopping up onto the sofa.

"Get out of my house—_base,"_ I corrected, still scowling at her.

"Hopelessly human, that's you," Tak said.

"Hopeless," MiMi repeated, her red eyes flashing as she spoke.

"What... do you... _want?"_ I asked through clenched teeth.

"All right, look," said Tak with a slight sigh, jumping off the sofa to speak to me. "I don't like you, and you don't like me."

"There's _something_ we can agree on," I grumbled, rolling my eyes.

"But just hear me out," Tak continued sweetly, giving me a bit of a smirk. "We're both working for a common cause, aren't we? We both want to bring about the downfall of the humans, we both want to prove ourselves to the Tallest."

"Actually, Tak," I interrupted, "I'm not sure what I want anymore."

"Oh, of course you do!" she laughed. And Tak's downfall: she seemed to like contradicting herself. One second, she's trying to convince me that I'm irreperably internally human. The next, this. Oh, how I hated her. "Listen, I'm offering to—"

"Whatever you're selling, I'm not buying," I said firmly, waving her off. "I can take care of this on my own." Deep down, of course, I knew I couldn't.

"Zim, really," said Tak, "you've been at this for what, three years? All the other Invaders took care of their planets in a year, a month, a week! Face it. Operation Impending Doom II is over. Earth is the last planet left. This is where the fun really starts."

"What are you saying?" I asked hesitantly.

"I'm offering to strike you a deal, Zim," said Tak, smiling. "If you join forces with me, I'll help you bring about the end of the Earth, just as you've planned. That way, I can earn the favor of the Tallest, and you can get what you've always wanted."

"What the hell, Tak?" I screamed at her. "I don't understand you at all! And I'm damn sure you don't understand me, either! God_dammit,_ you piss me off! First you come here to get revenge, then _again_ for that reason... now, suddenly, after that whole ordeal with me becoming human, you want to be _partners?_ You make no sense!"

"You're just not seeing all sides of the situation," said Tak.

"What else is there to see?" I shouted frantically. "Argh, I... I just... _gah!_ Wait a minute..." I realized. "You were afraid of me, weren't you?"

"Wh-what?" Aha! I'd caught her off-guard. For a split second, I had the upper hand.

"Liar," MiMi declared. I shot her a glance, wondering whose side that strange little modified SIR was on, then looked back up at Tak.

"I could see it in your eyes back then," I grinned, proud to have pulled one over on my most formidable adversary. "You feared my human form!"

"Now what would give you that idea?" Tak snarled, playing it cool again. "I fear nothing but failure! Isn't it the same for you?"

"I fear nothing and no one!" I proclaimed firmly. "Listen, Tak, if you think that by teaming up with me you'll be able to rid yourself of—" "Don't you want to get rid of your conscience?" Tak countered before I could finish.

"Well, I—" Shit. Now she had me again. The conscience was the thing, the catalyst, the annoyance, the blessing—everything. Irkens are clones; there is little variation in form and function throughout most of the Irken population. PAKs help Irkens think on the right path... unless one is a Defective, as was my case, or an Original... one of the old generation, rarely spoken of these days... Either way, a conscience worked against Irken protocol.

Tak leaned in and took my chin up in her right hand, jerking my head up a bit so that she was glaring down at me. "You're plagued by your past, are you not?"

"Get off me!" I shouted, extending the spider legs in my PAK and sending a blast at her. She screamed and crashed into the sofa; the impact and the blast caused it to break in two.

"MiMi!" Tak cried.

MiMi was quickly upon me, shedding her hologram and holding her claw-like appendage close to my throat.

"A little help would be nice!" I called over to GIR.

GIR saluted and went into duty mode, then tackled MiMi and fought her off.

"You're not just going to listen to me are you?" Tak asked, disposing of her own hologram and beginning to circle me.

"You're not just going to flat out tell me anything, either," I snorted.

"Don't we make a great team?" Tak sneered.

"I'm not teaming up with you!" I protested, lunging at her and hitting her with a perfect right hook. Tak snarled and took the easy way out by quickly grabbing my right arm as I followed through with the hit and striking me precisely where she'd inflicted the wound that even now could bring me to my knees.

I cried out and grasped my upper right arm, falling down before her. _"FUCK!"_ I shouted. Nothing else really seemed to fit in with the moment.

"Pills!" GIR cried, snapping quickly out of duty mode and rocketing into the kitchen. "I'mma make you all better!"

I drew in a shaky breath through clenched teeth. "Would it even make a difference now?" I wondered, my conscience quickly starting to take over. Before it could, there was a flash—_Tak turned her back to me, disgusted, and stormed out of the room—_and then, a second later, I was back, battling against my lingering human instincts.

"You're just going to keep suffering until you do something about your stupid conscience, you know," Tak told me.

"And you..." I began, in a moment of desperation.

"I can get rid of it," she grinned. Tempting... all too tempting... especially in a moment of weakness. What better way to end others knowing of that weakness than to eliminate it all together..?

"What do you want in return?" I wondered, glaring at her.

"Nothing yet," she told me. "I'm being sincere about this, Zim. I'm desperate to win the Tallests' appreciation, and you... well... this could be your chance. Think about it."

She grinned, then turned to leave, MiMi staying at her heels.

"Oh, and by the way," she added, "I didn't fear your human form, Zim." More quietly, she added, "I've only been afraid of one person in my entire life."

I thought for a moment about Tak's offer, also wondering what she was hinting at by constantly becoming distant and mentioning the past, and then my upper right arm began to sting again. I winced and gripped the wound more tightly.

_Damn these human emotions, this human weakness!_ I snarled internally. _Wait, _I thought,_ if I join up with Tak... perhaps this could end! Perhaps... perhaps I'll be able to rid myself of these bothersome human feelings once and for all, being partners with the likes of her!_

"Tak, wait!" I called, standing.

She turned. "Yes?" she asked, a bit darkly.

I didn't care. I knew what I wanted. Perhaps it was desperate. Perhaps it was stupid. But stupidity had worked in my favor before, and I was ready to do anything as a means of figuring out who I should be. 'Invader' Zim had a ring to it that had always resounded well somewhere in my mind. All I had ever wanted was acceptance, from anyone. All Tak wanted was approval from the Tallest. It was a stretch, but it was a common goal indeed. Besides, teaming up with her could bring me closer to one other thing: _answers._ Despite Tak's upper hand in just about every field, I could use her at least for that.

"I-I'll do it," I said. "I'll join you."

"Excellent," Tak grinned. "All I ask is that you let me help you tweak your plans a little, make things run more smoothly."

"I'm willing to do whatever you want," I told her, walking up to her reluctantly. "It's time for this to end once and for all."

"Then," said Tak, holding out a hand, "do we have an agreement?"

My human side hesitated, but I fought it back. I thrust out my hand and gripped hers firmly, signifying a done deal. "We have an agreement," I said. "Partners?"

"Partners."

We stood, frozen, our hands clasped, for quite some time. It was official. I'd chosen my side.

Earth was coming to an end.

Humanity was doomed.

– – –


	3. Intro 3: Hate To Say I Told You So

**– – –**

**Author's Note:**

_Invader Zim_ is -c- Jhonen Vasquez! Only the events of this story (and the character tweaking, heh) are mine. :3

~Jizena~

**– – –**

_Gaz's Records_

By the time I turned eleven, I realized it was pretty much useless to cry over past events. In fact, much of the year before I turned twelve was spent trying to forget the feelings that I had developed during the Incident. Sometimes, I succeeded, sometimes, I failed horribly. But it was true that I had other things to worry about, such as a growth spurt of my own; my brother wasn't the only one getting taller anymore, once I was just about to enter my teenage years.

The two years after the Incident actually seemed to fly by. Before I knew it, Dib (now standing at an even 5'5") and I (behind at 5'2") were sitting at a booth in the downtown sushi bar, celebrating his thirteenth birthday. We'd long since given up on thinking our father would even _mention_ our birthdays to us, so my brother and I had grown accustomed to finding small ways to celebrate. This year, since I was a little short of money, I simply offered to pay for lunch, which he said was more than sufficient.

"This is pretty funny," I observed, stirring my soy sauce around with my pinkie.

"What?" Dib wondered. "That waitress who just tripped and dropped an octopus roll down that guy's shirt?"

"Well, that and..." I let go and let myself snicker a bit. "I haven't eaten sushi since then."

"Whe—oh." Dib finished what he'd started eating, then asked, "How... are you, by the way? I don't think I've asked in a while." He cleared his throat after saying that; his voice was already changing.

"Oh, I'm fine," I shrugged. The subtext: I _made_ myself be 'fine.' Merely 'fine.' But I had suppressed love and loss before, and I was over being emotional. Sometimes, alone, I'd pine, I'd obsess, I'd stare at that box for hours, sometimes at the cost of a decent night's sleep, but the rest of the world did not deserve to see me fall into the heartbreak trap. "More importantly, what's up with your rivalry, anyway? Has he even pulled anything on you lately? At school last year or anything over the..."

"I didn't tell you?" Dib exclaimed, his eyes widening. "I thought for sure I'd told you!"

"Does this have something to do with why you haven't been dragging me along on your weird missions lately?" I guessed.

"Gaz... Zim didn't come to school... at _all_ last semester," Dib said quietly.

"WHAT?" I practically shouted, startled beyond measure. I shrank down and hissed across the table, "Are you _serious? _Where is he?"

"That's just the thing... I don't know!" my brother told me, seeming nervous. "His base is still there, I know that much, but... I haven't even seen GIR or the Voot around anywhere. Either he's getting better or I'm getting worse... or he's somewhere else on Earth or... or he just left, or..."

"Or?" I asked hopefully, meeting Dib's gaze.

His eyes softened, and he sighed. "Gaz, I don't think that's possible," he said, knowing my thoughts exactly.

"It happened before!" I refuted. "Why couldn't it happen again?"

Dib looked around, then leaned across the table to speak to me. "Gaz, I... haven't been completely honest with you over the past couple of years," he admitted painfully.

"What?" I asked flatly, raising an eyebrow and glaring at my brother, ready to rip off his arms and legs and reattach them in different sockets.

"Well, I just... I just didn't want to hurt you, you know?" he tried to cover, looking nervous. "Last year, I... when I was tailing Zim, I... I learned a couple of things I don't think I was supposed to know."

"Like what?" I wondered.

"Well the most important thing was..." Dib slapped a hand to his forehead. "I should have told you this a while ago, but I didn't want you to get too excited." Meeting my gaze again, he said, "Remember how we both returned from the Incident with something seemingly vital to each of us? The items for you and the repairs on Tak's Runner for me? Well, Zim kept something with him as well..." lowering his voice to a near whisper, he finished, "...his _conscience."_

My eyes widened and I sat back. Suddenly, my eyes began burning with tears. "Why didn't you tell me..?" I asked, my voice wavering.

"I told you, Gaz, I didn't want to hurt you or excite you!"

"What _else_ did you learn?" I demanded.

"All I know is that... well, he, um... had sort of an antidote that helped him regulate his human mind," Dib explained, "allowing him to return mostly to the way he was before the Incident. It seemed to me, though, that he was giving into his human conscience a lot more willingly than he would have liked. He... asked about you."

My heart skipped. "Really?" I wondered.

"Something about... is she okay or something," Dib said, thinking back. "It's his arm. You know, where Tak cut him during the Incident. That's keeping him from being completely the person he was before."

"I hate to say I told you so, Dib," I said evenly, "but... _idiot! _You didn't _believe_ me when I told you that something was wrong with his arm still! I remember two years ago, you—"

"Okay, okay, you win," Dib gave in, holding up a hand. "Sorry for not believing you, Gaz, really."

"So..." I said after a pause, "what do you think is going to happen now?"

"I couldn't say," my brother replied. There was another, longer pause, then he announced, "Gaz, I'm going to use the rest of this summer finding answers."

"How?" I spat. "Zim isn't here."

"I don't mean here on Earth," Dib clarified. My heart stopped. "It's high time I put Tak's Runner to really good use, wouldn't you say?"

"You mean you're just going to _leave?"_ I exclaimed. "What the hell am I going to do?"

"I'll try not to be too long," said Dib, "but I'll need you_ here_ in case I have to contact you, you know? And that way you can be at my computer in case something happens to the Runner out... who knows where."

"Forget it, Dib," I scowled, folding my arms. "I'm not gonna be your intergalactic grease monkey. Hire someone."

"Oh, come on, Gaz," he pleaded. "You're the only one who knows I'm telling the truth about all this _anyway."_

"What'll I get for it?" I asked. "I expect generous compensation for, first of all, staying at home alone and covering for you in case Dad wonders where you are, and secondly for helping you out from lightyears away."

"Buy you a new guitar," he offered.

I raised an eyebrow.

"Seriously?" I asked.

"Or I'll just give you the money for it, I guess," said Dib, grinning. "Half now, half when I get back from my travels, just so I know you won't bail."

I thought for a minute. "That and," I added (I loved striking deals), "you give me any and all information about Zim the second you hear it. Got that?"

"Sure do. So you'll do it?" he asked hopefully.

I rolled my eyes. "I guess I don't really have a choice," I gave in. "I'll help you."

"Thanks, Gaz!"

– – –

Later that night, Dib was making final adjustments to Tak's Runner to make sure nothing went wrong when he broke out of orbit. I saw a lot of sense in his wanting to make the trip as soon as possible: first, it was more logical, seeing as we didn't know what we were up against anymore (if anything), and second, he was getting so tall, he'd eventually have to make modifications on the interior of the ship. He already had, a little, I noticed. Not much, but enough to allow for a little more comfort in flight.

"You're not taking off tonight, are you?" I asked, standing in the garage doorway.

"Are you kidding me?" Dib returned from his position underneath the Runner. "That'd be pretty stupid of me," he laughed. "Dad's home and everything."

He slid out from underneath the Runner and grabbed a towel, wiping off his hands and glasses. "I guess that'll do it," he announced proudly, standing and taking a look at the ship. "All the kinks have been worked out, and I finally debugged it, so Tak's personality interface won't cut in anymore."

"Will that affect the flying?" I wondered.

"Shouldn't," Dib answered. He laughed. "You _have_ become caught up in this."

"So what," I shrugged. "It's unavoidable, I guess. I just don't want to go to war."

"War?" Dib wondered.

"It's bound to happen, isn't it?" I said. "I mean... if Zim is getting better, a-as an Invader," I went on, with some difficulty, "he'll realize he's supposed to be after the entire planet, not just our little section. That'll bring in the rest of the Irkens. Isn't that what an Invasion is? Full-on war, fighting for control of a planet... or... whatever?"

"True," Dib agreed. "Now if only the Swollen Eyeball Network would believe us," he grumbled. "We have some ex-army members, or so I've been told; we could potentially fight. Right now it just seems like Earth wants to just lie back and take it in the ass, you know?"

I laughed at my brother's word choice. "Something will make them believe you," I assured him. "Seriously. They'll come crying to you once the Irkens start firing."

Dib shuddered. "What if it's too late by then?" he wondered.

"Hmmm."

He shrugged. "I just wish there was something I could do," he sighed. "Eh. I'll worry about that later. Let's get back inside."

– – –

I couldn't sleep at all. I was awake until the sun rose, just lying in my bed, thinking about everything that had happened since Zim first came to Earth, and everything that could potentially happen to us in the months and years to come.

How long would it take? How long would it take for others to start believing us? I was getting more and more concerned about the threat of Invasion and possible annihilation.

Above all else, I found myself thinking about how much I wished Zim was still human. It was almost like a dream now. Those eight days had passed so quickly, it very well could have been a dream, and everything I'd written down in my journals would have been nothing but an elaborate fantasy.

I almost believed it, too. I started to think I was going crazy. And then I found the note tucked away in my third journal... and the items that had somehow stayed with me. I had no idea what it could possibly mean. The deep recesses of my mind begged and pleaded for me to take everything as a sign. Whether or not the items I had taken back with me would prove helpful or useful to me in the future was a debate I constantly had with myself. Perhaps it meant that I was supposed to, someday, give them back to Zim.

That, someday, he would be human again.

God, what would I even _do?_ I wondered. Sure, I longed for it, with every fiber of my being, but I had only worked myself up to that point. I wanted him to be human. So that I could feel wanted by someone again. So that I could feel pretty. So that I could have a friend. So that I could tell him...

...what?

Tell him _what?_ Somehow, I felt like 'love' was too strong a word now. I was too far removed from the Incident to be sure. Now that Dib had told me Zim was possibly gone from the planet all together, I doubted myself even more. I already knew, it was Zim's human side I'd fallen in love with, anyway. Suppose that had left him, now that he had been Irken again for a good two years? I was probably hoping too much... those eight days couldn't have effected him too profoundly.

...Right?

Still, I held onto what hope I had. I wanted to hold on to _some_thing.

That night, before Dib left, I started thinking about my mother. I wasn't even sure why at the time. I began wondering if things would be different if she were still around. But I barely even remembered what she looked like... I could barely remember the sound of her voice. All I knew was that I somehow reminded Dad and my brother of her. Probably my hair, I always told myself. Or something.

I also remembered a few things she'd said to me, even though my last memory of her was from the night before she walked out, when I was three years old. I remembered when she sang to me, and a few sayings that sounded rather cliché to me at times, but when I thought about their meanings, I saw how true they were... or at least how true I wanted them to be.

_"Anyone who has ever loved has earned a soul."_

That's what she'd told me the day before she left us. I heard it in my mind now as clear as day: Mom's mid-range, sonorous, Finnish-accented voice, with a cadence that suggested every phrase she spoke was a song. Her operatic tone only helped me believe her words further... everything she had ever said was woven like a fairy tale, everything from _"Good morning, dear," _to, _"When one is weak, he must learn to trust."_ Almost a decade had passed and still I remember those words as though she'd spoken them to me every night.

I wanted those words to be true more than anything. _"Anyone who has ever loved has earned a soul." _I wanted so badly to know that Zim could still earn a soul... since he seemed to have wanted one during the Incident, because he feared only death. And he loved me.

– – –

"Well, I guess this is it, then," Dib said, opening the cockpit of the Spittle Runner. "I'll try not to make it too much longer than a week, all right?"

"If you learn anything at _all_ about Zim..." I prompted.

"I'll let you know," my brother smiled. "You'll cover for me, right?"

"No problem," I said. "Oh. My money." I extended my right palm.

Dib rolled his eyes and dug into his wallet, emptying its contents. "That's about half," he told me. "I'll get the rest to you when I come back."

I grinned and pocketed the cash, then looked up at the sky, shielding my eyes from the sun. "For some reason, I'd like to go with you," I admitted. "I'd imagine it's amazing out there."

"Another time... I promise I'll bring you with me, Gaz," Dib let me know. His voice sounded sincere, so I held him to his word. "I shouldn't be gone any longer than a week," he said. "If I am, just call."

"And I contact the Runner from your computer, right?" I wondered.

"Right... though I think our watches should work just fine," Dib answered, jumping into the cockpit and revving up the ship's engines. "Well..." he said with a sigh, "see you, then."

I felt a sting in my chest, and my heart began to race. I didn't know what my brother was about to face, and it scared me. Though I wanted to go with him more than I thought I would, I knew that the only way I could truly help him was to stay at home.

"Good luck," I wished him. Then, in almost an instant, he was gone.

– – –

**IZMS Part One: Changes** will continue next Friday, May 6th! :3 That's it for the intro, now on to the full story...!


	4. Transit 1: Books Come To Mind

**Author's Note:**

5/6/11: Hello! I am in the middle of a move this week, so I am going to have a hinky kind of update… here is a small chapter for this morning, and I should have another chapter or two up either this evening or this weekend, I promise! :3

Thank you so much for the positive feedback so far! I love reviews, do let me know what you think~!

_Invader Zim_ is -c- Jhonen Vasquez! Only the events of this story (and the character tweaking, heh) are mine. :3

~Jizena~

**– – –**

_Dib's Records_

I did not know what I was getting myself into. At all. All I knew was that I wanted to stop Zim before he could make a move, and I wanted answers. Answers to everything. What Tak got out of the Incident; why Gaz still had those precious items; why Zim was still struggling with his conscience... whether or not it disturbed him at all.

More than anything I was angry. Angry at myself for laying low, angry at the Swollen Eyeball Paranormal Network for not listening to a damn word I said, and, for some reason, angry at my parents. Why them? I wondered. My mother especially. She walked out on us. She was probably dead. The reasons I was angry at my father were more obvious; I was _always_ mad at him, and he was _always_ mad at me. That was just how it was. 'Real' science versus parascience. My _Jekyll and Hyde_ to his _Origin Of Species._

Those books actually did come to my mind as I was piloting Tak's Runner through the galaxy. I'd been out of Earth's orbit before, and my mind was too rattled at the time for me to be very impressed by anything, so it would stand to reason that I would start thinking about the one passion my father had ever approved of: literature. Then again, we usually butted heads about which books were worth reading anyway.

My mother had read to me until I learned to read on my own at around age two. I know, that's pretty young, but it's the truth. From there, I never read anything assigned to me. I read novels and stories from the nineteenth century and earlier. To me, a lot of the wonder that sparked those old novels died in the more recent years of storytelling, so to me the earlier stories will be immortal and irreplaceable.

Novels were the things that earlier proved the connection between my sister and myself as well. We both read stories on the darker side of science and life.

One thing that came of this was that I always tended to relate real life to something I had read. My father did not approve of this. "Life is life," he refuted. "No amount of _fiction_ could ever sum up to the truths of medical and natural science!" At this point, I would usually tell him to shut up, and he would attempt to disown me. It was a pattern.

We were also torn apart by two books that seemingly had nothing to do with one another. The two I mentioned before: Stevenson's _The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde_ and Darwin's _The Origin Of Species._ Both of them were favorites of my mother's. As for my father and me, I preferred the former, while he called it quixotic and insisted upon the significance of the latter. Therefore, we each hated the other's 'bad taste.'

These were merely quarrels in the grand scheme of things, however. And, I must mention, I did not _hate_ my father. I did not hate him utterly and completely, but I _disliked_ him to a sickening extent. Everything he did was the polar opposite of whatever I lived for, and vice versa. Gaz did not care either way, it seemed. She resembled neither of us, really, which was probably why we were always at odds, my father and I, but instead Gaz was like a lingering portrait of our mother, which even Dad would sometimes mention.

In any case, though we disagreed on most everything, I still had a tiny glimmer of hope that I would see my father again as he was when my mother was around. In fact, it was only out of respect for him that I allowed my hair to fall the way it did. Otherwise, I'd cut it in a heartbeat.

It's strange how things seem to work out that way.

After I'd calmed myself a little, and after those books came to my mind, I gave myself a mental slap for not even thinking to bring so much as a newspaper clipping with me. I was planning on investigating other planets for about a week, and for me, a week with nothing to read was torture; the equivalent of Gaz being without video-games or her guitar.

"This thing doesn't even have a radio," I muttered. Now that was saying something, since I'd given up on music long ago. I settled for a better option, then, and called my sister. We talked for a while about nothing of much consequence, though we did confirm early on that our watches were still synched, which stood to reason, since I hadn't landed anywhere yet, and therefore was under no alien time zone in particular. When the possibility of me making it all the way to Irk on my current voyage came up in conversation, Gaz cleverly changed the subject to avoid discussing anything related to the Irkens.

At that moment, I felt a pang of regret for leaving her alone. Sure, we could both take care of ourselves, but we understood each other too well. Or, should I say, we understood each other _so_ well, we worked better, now, as a team. Even when we said nothing to one another for a day or two (which rarely happened now, but used to quite often), the company was enough. The rest of my journey, I knew, would be spent angry at the fact that I had come alone. Besides, I realized, I had no idea what I was up against out there. I'd done things alone for so long, this was just one more thing, but I was feeling more and more responsible for my little sister's well-being, I knew this was going a bit too far.

All I could do now, though, was promise myself that I'd do a better job of looking after her once I returned home. Besides, we still had no idea where Zim was. It was in my best interests to keep tabs on him, to make sure he wasn't about to do anything rash, anything horrible. Well, no matter what, no matter where I was, I wouldn't let the Irkens harm what was left of my family.

– – –


	5. Partnership 1: The Tallest

– – –

**Author's Note:**

5/6/11: Three extra chapters going up tonight! Though in the middle of a move, I ended up with more time to edit than I thought! Having the full thing done is such a help, so I can have such a buffer, haha. ^^ I hope you are enjoying the story so far... trust me, there is soooo much coming~! Let me know what you think~ ^^

_Invader Zim_ is -c- Jhonen Vasquez! Only the events of this story (and the character tweaking, heh) are mine. :3

~Jizena~

– – –

_Zim's Records_

I would not say that we were given heroes' welcomes.

Far from it, really. Oh, we were welcomed back, that was sure, but it was with more trepidation than I had seen the Tallest use to handle anything for the longest time. I couldn't say I blamed them. I mean, we were quite an odd pair, Tak and I. (Aside: putting our names together as partners is one of the most unbelievably horrific things I have seen, _ever.)_ We two, while night and day in terms of work ethic and personality, were two uncommon, awkwardly individual soldiers with similar goals: acceptance and just rewards. So one of us handled things better than the other (and I don't and can't by any means call myself the better of the two; I did not think so then and I certainly don't now)... still, it was true, together, we had the potential to accomplish at least something, and that was all either of us wanted. Bite back differences for the sake of making some kind of mark in the Empire. That was what I had to do, if I was to survive as an Irken, if I ever had a chance of draining that human conscience out of my head for good.

And the Tallest were, with reason, skeptical. When Tak and I first showed up together, in my Voot, in the briefing hall on the _Massive,_ our leaders looked stunned. Probably with the fact that we were both alive, first of all, and then by the fact that we were together. We had arrived after Tak had made a call, which I had not been present for, so as far as I knew, the Tallest probably thought that Tak was bringing me back bound, gagged and giftwrapped. I knew I was hated... I just usually liked to pretend that maybe, _maybe,_ I was more well-liked than Tak. Then again, I had only spoken to the Tallest on and off after the Time Warp. I had no idea how well Tak knew them now. Apparently, as I was to learn, there was merely an understanding. An understanding that she would not act out against them, and all she asked in return was for a ship, and the free reign to do whatever she wanted with me—the real 'threat to the Operation.'

Red, who always showed more restraint than his partner, was the first to address us. There we were, standing in front of the beaten Runner, GIR and MiMi rather obediently waiting in the ship (and this was a new thing for GIR); the two eerily identical Tallest stood not far away, surrounded by Advisors and guards. My right arm began to ache, just standing there, but I made myself suck it up and ignore it. I had to pretend to be unaffected, in front of the Tallest. I had to pretend I still wanted their attention, their approval. I had to convince myself that this was right.

"So," Red began, moving forward with his hands clasped behind his back, "is this really the proposition you've come up with..?"

"Indeed, my Tallest," Tak grinned, still leaving me in the dark about the whole thing. "We two are prepared to work together toward a great end... Earth has a great deal of natural resources, as well as plenty of potential slaves to the Empire."

Red glanced back at Purple, who usually was aloof if even a bit obnoxious (especially to Red), and more softspoken. The look, then, that the latter gave the former was unexpected. It was a glare, really, something that looked like a warning. I figured it meant something along the lines of, _"We're allowing them both to work like this?"_ or, _"Are you seriously going to let them take charge of such a heavy operation?"_

I did not see whatever look Red shot back at Purple, but I did see a strange kind of disdain on the stronger Tallest's generally hard-to-read face when he looked us over again. "What makes you think that the two of you can succeed?" he asked us, his voice straight and to the point.

"Oh, my Tallest," Tak half-laughed, playing the field, "we know that planet better than anyone, now! Why, only last Earth year the two of us worked on quite the experiment involving human psychology." She leered at me, and her eyes flashed, blinding and confusing me for a brief moment. "Didn't we?" Her grin was toxic.

"Y-yes," I said, going along with her awful game.

"Oh?" I glanced up at Purple, who had spoken but had not moved. He folded his arms and narrowed his eyes in scorn. Damn, they _really_ didn't like me, huh? "Do tell."

"I—" I began.

"That information," said Tak, "we will keep classified. Unless, of course, we can work out some kind of deal, some kind of mission."

"You have no right to bargain with us!" Purple shouted at her. "The answer is no. The Operation is over. We've annexed plenty. We don't need Earth."

"It will be more than worth your time, sir," Tak promised.

"Nothing could be a bigger _waste_ of time!"

"No," said Red, evenly. "I'm kind of curious."

"Forget curious, I say no!"

"You're annoying when you haven't had anything to eat," Red lashed out at his partner. "Let me handle this."

"You're making a mistake!" Purple warned.

"Let—me—handle—this." There was a strange staredown between the two for a few seconds, and then Red commanded, "Go eat something."

"I'm not hungry," Purple snapped, "and I feel I should have a say in this. Aren't we partners?"

"For crying out loud, Purple, get out of here!" Red yelled in retaliation. "This is not the time to be having this argument! I'll fill you in _later!"_

I never caught Purple's reaction to that, or if anything else was said that eventually made him leave, because I was preoccupied by watching Tak. The corners of her mouth twitched upward, and the sides of her eyes sparked. She was delighting a little too much in watching this spat between our leaders. And if one person knew how to take information and twist it to her advantage, that person was Tak.

This had turned from a reluctant partnership to a mission of survival. I had to beat her out. I wanted to. I needed to.

Once Purple had been persuaded to leave, Red said to us, "None of that happened."

"Oh, no, certainly not," Tak agreed with honey-coated hostility. "Assuming, of course, that you, my great Leaders, will give the two of us merely the chance to prove ourselves to the Empire. All we ask is for this simple mission."

"Name it." Huh. This was new. Then again, I had never seen the Tallest fight, either. I'd always more or less thought that they were twin clones, and shared a mind, Red having stronger physical and leadership qualities and Purple getting the ability of wordplay.

"War," said Tak. My insides churned. "Plain and simple. We'll work on tactics here. Just give us time. This will be more than conquest, my Tallest. This will be an operation future generations will always remember. Earth has greater potential than any other planet that has been annexed thus far."

"Oh? How so?"

"For now, you'll simply have to believe me. Look at how long Zim alone has spent on that planet," Tak purred. "The best Invasions take time. We'll give you the war of your career, my Tallest. You can count on that."

The Tallest regarded each of us individually. He kept a steady eye on Tak, then looked at me with some regret. "Zim," he addressed me, "are you up to this?"

"Yes. Yes, sir," I told him.

"I'm not convinced."

"Yes, sir!" I reaffirmed, making myself believe in everything Tak was selling. This was my only current chance at having any kind of purpose, awful though my conscience knew it was.

Red was silent for a moment longer, and in the back of my mind I wondered how the hell GIR was keeping himself quiet so long. Then, after a minute that felt like a day, Red gave in. "Very well," he said. "Invader Zim. Invader Tak. Come with me. I'll give you a strategy room here on the _Massive,_ and later we can discuss with my partner the fleet vessels you'll be needing."

"You won't regret this decision, sir," said Tak, barely containing a laugh.

"I'd better not. If you don't start the final Invasion within a year, you're both going to have your PAKs deactivated. Follow me." Tallest Red gave us each one last look over, then turned and started down a corridor, surrounded by his remaining entourage—the rest, of course, had left with Tallest Purple. As I watched him leave, his conditions echoed in my mind.

_Deactivated?_ Fuck.

"Nice going," I snarled at Tak under my breath. She signaled for GIR and MiMi, who took their places at our sides. "Invasion within a year? I knew teaming up with you was a bad idea. What do you want out of Earth, anyway? Why go to these lengths?"

"You're asking too many human questions," Tak grumbled.

"And whose fault is that? You're really starting to piss me off."

"You'll thank me for this soon enough," Tak whispered to me as we walked along behind the Tallest.

"What are you getting at?" I demanded, keeping my voice hushed. "First you turn me human and try to erase me, now you're convincing the Tallest I'm the best qualified to kill them all? What are you really after?"

Tak smirked and looked straight forward again. She held her chin high; her shoulders squared as she continued her march. She was proud to be in the Tallests' favor, proud to be an Invader, proud to, at last, have a mission of her own. I was convinced she was about to brush me away any second. I had to keep one step ahead of her, keep an eye on her, make sure I knew her plan before she could turn and destroy me. Oddly enough, I was up for the challenge. It was something that could keep me occupied.

"I only want to see how well you handle this, that's all," said Tak, her mind clearly elsewhere. "I'm through with that game we played earlier. You still have potential."

"Potential for what?" My arm stung, suddenly, as if her words had stabbed right through my flesh. I grabbed at the spot, as I had been doing so frequently lately, and snarled, "This has to do with _before,_ doesn't it..?"

"Remember it all or forget everything," Tak lilted. "I'm just helping you make the right choice."

"Oh, because you're such a great judge of things like that," I barked.

"I know what I want! And right now I want you to shut up and just let me handle everything."

"I hate you so Goddamn much," I muttered as I gently rubbed the sore area on my right arm, wondering if that thing would ever leave me alone.

"As I said... you'll thank me soon."

"And if I don't?"

"I'll kill you."

Fair enough.

– – –


	6. Transit 2: Invader Tenn

– – –

**Author's Note:**

_Invader Zim_ is -c- Jhonen Vasquez! Only the events of this story (and the character tweaking, heh) are mine. :3

~Jizena~

– – –

_Dib's Records_

I'd been about a day without rest when I suddenly felt the primary engine start to give.

"Oh... fuck," I spat, looking around for a nearby planet. I had no idea where I was, or how far away Earth was at the moment, but I knew I'd need to at least find someone I could attempt to communicate with (hopefully not someone working for the Tallest) in order to fix the Runner's current, and unfortunate, situation.

"Gaz!" I shouted into my watch as the ship's emergency engine began to overheat.

"You okay?" she wondered.

"I don't think I am!" I said honestly.

The ship's lights went red, and I was beginning to lose control. I felt myself start plummeting downward. My stomach churned; my head ached. I could feel my heart stop.

"DAMMIT!" I cried, wrestling with the controls of the Spittle Runner. Nothing responded. No physical or verbal commands were getting through to the system. Just what I needed. "Shit! Gaz, can you hear me?"

"Not really," she groaned from her side of the communication system.

"This is serious!" I yelped. "Gaz, I think I'm going down; this thing couldn't hold up!"

"Damn! Where are you?"

"That's the problem; I have no idea!"

"How far from Earth?" Gaz practically screamed, obviously getting more nervous.

"Well, I know I'm in a completely different galaxy, and—"

Just then, the last of the engines started to fail and the communication system was shut off. I cursed under my breath and jerked the craft towards the surface of the nearest planet. It looked rocky and rough, but it would have to do. I prayed silently that everything would turn out for the best, then shut off the main controls and manually prepared the ship for landing as quickly as I possibly could.

I don't think I was quick enough, because seconds later, I was unconscious.

– – –

"Broken..."

I groaned and forced myself to open my eyes when I heard someone nearby me muttering. I found that I'd been tossed from the Runner, but for some miraculous reason I discovered that I could breathe perfectly on whatever planet it was I'd crashed down upon. I did a quick check of my body... my fingers and toes were all perfectly mobile, my wrists and ankles turned and were luckily not broken. All in all, I'd gotten out of the crash with only aftershocks. My head was a tremor, but my body would be sound as soon as my brain synapses caught up. After taking a moment to stop my head from spinning, I picked myself up shakily and looked around to see who had been speaking.

"Broken!" the voice said again. I turned to look at the Runner to find, of all things, an _Irken_ rummaging through the ship. My heart leapt, and I glanced around, wondering immediately if I had indeed crashed down on Irk. That would make sense, as Zim and Tak had shown no problems breathing and getting around on Earth... then again, PAKs were so advanced, that technology probably helped. This was definitely an oxygen-based planet. And that was definitely an Irken looking over my ship. "Broken, broken, _broken!_ Dammit, just when I thought I could get off this disgusting planet and get back at those damn Tallest for ruining—"

"Who are you?" I demanded as firmly as I could, even though I was shaking. "What do you want with my Runner?"

The Irken turned and narrowed her gleaming light red eyes. "I'm taking this," she spat. She straightened, allowing me to get a good look at her. Her red uniform, no different in design from Zim's, was torn and burnt in several places, and her green face was dusty with the planet's atmosphere. Her antennae were curled, as Tak's were, though they were shorter. Her eyelashes, too, weren't quite as defined as Tak's. I estimated her as being a couple inches taller than Zim, putting her a few inches shorter than I was. "What are you?" she demanded. Despite being scuffed up, this Irken maintained her dignity.

"I'm a—never mind! You can't take my ship!"

The Irken snorted. "It's not like it's gonna work for a while anyway," she griped, kicking it. "What are you?" she demanded of me again, approaching a couple steps. "Where are you from?"

I decided the best thing to do at the moment was answer truthfully, since the two of us seemed to be equally confused. "I'm a human," I answered. "My home planet, Earth, is—"

"Woah, woah, wait," the Irken interrupted, holding up a gloved hand and giving me a skeptical look. "Are you really one of them? I thought that was just another myth concocted by the Control Brains back when—I'll shut up." For the first time since I'd seen her, she smiled. It was the first sincere smile I'd ever seen an Irken display. (Well, minus when Zim was human, but, obviously, he wasn't _Irken_ during that week.) "Name's Tenn," she said. "I'm sure you'll grow to hate this place as much as I do."

"What... _is_ 'this place?'" I asked her.

Tenn snorted again. "Meekrob," she answered, outstretching her arms to indicate the vast desert. "The most desolate, disgusting planet in the universe. And the Tallest sent _me_ to conquer it. And I could have, too, if they hadn't ruined everything by sending an army of malfunctioning SIR units here to... you have no idea what I'm talking about. And I have no idea why I'm even telling you! Go away!"

"I... don't have anywhere to go," I pointed out, raising an eyebrow. "Look, I _do_ know what you're talking about. I know who the Tallest are, I know what a SIR unit is."

Tenn whistled. "I'm hallucinating," she laughed. "I've gotta be. My PAK is short-circuiting; I'm dying. Something's up. You're a human, and you _know?"_

"How do you know what a human is, anyway?" I wondered. "And why'd you have to ask me if you do?"

"Almost all Irkens know what a human is," Tenn replied as though the question were stupid, "we just have no idea what one looks like. A few thousand years ago or something, the Control Brains... do you know what those are?"

"Yes."

"Well, they put something into the archives about humans that Tallest Miyuki confirmed a few years back." Tenn sighed. "Everything's been going downhill since she disappeared." She sat down with a _thud_ and rested her head on one hand. "Stupid Tallest. They've ruined everything since they came into power. As far as I'm concerned it's not his fault. It's _theirs."_

"His?" I wondered, kneeling not too far from Tenn. I stayed on my guard. After all, she was an Irken. The enemy. I couldn't expect that we could keep up a normal conversation for long. On the other hand, though, she was, as far as I knew, my only resource for information and for getting me off this planet, somehow. She had to at least have some kind of communication system, right? Couldn't PAKs do that? I checked my watch quickly. Completely broken in the collision. I had no way of contacting Gaz on my own. I had to suck it up and get on Tenn's good side in order to figure out some way to contact my sister. Plus, an Irken willing to share secrets was a good thing in and of itself. I just had to keep on my toes about it.

She looked up. "That, uh... scientist, Zim," she said, sounding rather bored. That got my attention. "I don't blame him for things like everyone else does. You know him?"

I grit my teeth. "He's the reason I know all of this," I said to her. "He's trying to destroy my planet."

Tenn burst out laughing.

"What?"

"It'll take him about twenty years," she laughed. "Sure, I believe he's not responsible for what happened to Miyuki, but asking me to believe he could conquer a planet as he is now is _way_ too much!"

That was strange. "What do you mean, 'as he is now?'" I wondered.

Tenn's eyes widened, but she shook it off and just came back with, "Nothing."

Rolling my eyes, I went for a different approach. "What exactly _did_ happen to Miyuki?" I asked, hoping that the questions Gaz and I had about this enigmatic Irken could finally be answered.

Tenn opened her mouth to speak, but just then an energy blast was sent straight at us. I managed to dodge it, and Tenn put up a shield with her PAK. "Crap," she muttered, standing and taking on a ready stance. "The Meekrob found us. They'll be after your ship, too, I'm sure."

"Huh?"

Before either of us could say anything more, a bright, glowing creature appeared before us. I scrambled backwards, amazed to see such a thing again. Zim had once tricked me into believing I'd encountered a pair of Meekrob once, but to see one this close and with conscious eyes was quite magnificent and frightening.

A group approached us, none of them differing much in size and height. Despite the fact that I was scared out of my mind that they were about to kill me, I had to be impressed with the display. Meekrob really are gorgeous creatures. They measure roughly four to four and a half feet in height, but hover at least a few inches off the ground at all times. Their bodies look like butterflies made entirely of white light; to my knowledge, they were made of pure energy. Seeing these Meekrob, all together, I noticed something interesting: each had a visible aura of a different color. While their pupilless eyes all shared an ice blue shade, there was a light emnating from each of them... one was a soft gold, another a simple white, yet another a pale pink. My eyes were drawn to the one at the front of the line, the one who had most likely shot at us. I could not determine male from female in Meekrob as easily as I could with Irkens, but I guessed, somehow, that this one was male; his aura was an iridescent silver, making it seem like a part of his crystallike body, and therefore giving him the appearance of being larger than the others.

The Meekrob's eyes focused on me, then softened in such a way that it seemed as though it were smiling. "Things are looking up," he said, probably to himself more than anything. The voice, low and awkwardly soothing, confirmed his gender.

I knew I would feel nothing but confused from this point for quite some time, and the question he asked me next proved it: "You are a human, correct?"

The only thing I could manage to reply with was, _"Huh?"_

– – –


	7. Partnership 2: Observation Deck

– – –

**Author's Note:**

_Invader Zim_ is -c- Jhonen Vasquez! Only the events of this story (and the character tweaking, heh) are mine. :3

~Jizena~

– – –

_Zim's Records_

We were given everything we needed. We were allowed to work on the _Massive._ Sure, maybe that second bonus was actually the Tallest being clever, since as long as Tak and I set up base on the _Massive,_ the Tallest and their entourage could keep a close eye on everything we did.

Tak asked me to leave most of the plan to her, which I did, though I still stayed on my guard. I thought to set GIR up to spy on her, before realizing that I would probably get false information back. GIR could process information, but he wasn't the best at evaluating or reaccessing it. Even MiMi seemed glitchy lately, and Tak would sometimes pause in her work to give MiMi a tuneup.

MiMi still spoke, of course, her eyes flashing with each syllable, but she would say strange things. Oddly enough, too, whenever she did have something to say that wasn't an affirmative or negative response to a question or command of Tak's, GIR listened. GIR would sit still, listen, and appear to think. Sometimes his eyes would flash red, as if tapping into MiMi's mind, or a completely different level of information he rarely accessed. It was odd, seeing him function normally. Then again, once MiMi was done spouting what seemed like nonsense, GIR would snap into his usual self, and begin singing or dancing or both, or come up with some ridiculous non-sequitur that I had no patience to process.

Only when MiMi began going on about the words _talisman_ and _mirror_ did Tak drop whatever she was doing to listen. This was more of a clue than I'd gotten from Tak in a while, so I paid attention from wherever I was in the base as well.

Our base was nothing spectacular. It was set up roughly like the control room I had set up underground back on Earth. We had one large communication screen and viewing monitor, as well as a backup generator for all information, into which we uploaded data from MiMi, GIR, and my Voot (which could pilot easily through the enormous halls of the _Massive)_. I would estimate that we had about a thousand square feet of space; Tak had a personal work station, as had I, with all the amenities an Irken needed: PAK recharging docks, fully stocked cases of the best Irken food, electronic tomes of information gathered by the other Invaders on their missions.

This was only Phase One, Tak kept on telling me, even though nothing seemed to be happening. She would get lost in her own world, drawing up grand schematics she never let me see. I was more than certain that it all had something to do with the machines she had had during the Time Warp. The Warp machine itself, plus whatever it was that had turned me human. Out of curiosity, I poked around in her area one day, only to have her blast me quickly out of there once MiMi caught onto what I was doing.

Her motives were unclear, and therefore frightening. I was convinced that she was using my human weaknesses to her advantage, despite claiming to want to help me rid myself of them. She probably was aware that I had no idea what I wanted, and that I was going along with her to figure it out.

Despite having a partner, too, I was lonely. Even GIR didn't provide the kind of company I wanted. Oh, yes, I had always said I could work alone. Still, being human for a week had left me with a nagging want for companionship. And I'd had it, too. Stupid me, thinking that way now. As long as it had lasted, though, it was nice. I'd had Gaz. I'd even considered Dib a friend. And I would now, too, I was sure—in a heartbeat. I'd take it all back. Only I couldn't. I couldn't. I had to keep telling myself that:

_No. Bad, Zim. Bad. You can't have that. You don't really want that._

_ You aren't human._

_ Or, well... you shouldn't be._

– – –

MiMi blathered out the word _talisman_ about six times before I finally got annoyed with it enough to ask Tak what the hell that robot was talking about. Tak had, clearly, bought herself some time to come up with her answer, since her reply seemed practiced, but I took from her what I could.

"You don't know?" she said falsely. "Ah, yes, of course... you wouldn't remember. Well, I wouldn't worry about them if I were you."

"I'm going to," I said right back. "So just tell me. You can't keep everything from me, Tak. Aren't we partners?"

Tak sighed. "I liked you better when you sedated your human tendencies," she admitted.

"What, with that antidote?" I guessed. I still had some, I suppose I should have been using it. It kept such curiosities away, at least. "I'll get it out later. Right now, tell me things."

"Talismans. Hmf. They're... you know... Zim, they're legends," said Tak, finally giving in. We were in the base, in the glow of the main screen. Deftly, Tak pulled out a disc from storage and loaded it into the mainframe computer, which rarely spoke. I began to miss my own backtalking computer from Earth. "There are three, possibly four. The ancient Irkens used them to build up the Empire a long time ago."

"Yeah, but what are they?" I pressed.

Tak's eyes narrowed. "That's what I'm trying to find out. So stop asking questions. You'll just get in the way. I swear I'll tell you everything once I know the full story. But for now, leave it alone."

Huh. Had to take her word on that one. I pressed for the information for a while longer, but eventually Tak kicked me out of our strategy room, leaving me to wander the _Massive's_ halls for several boring hours.

Well, not boring entirely. I came across Tallest Purple on one of the observation decks.

I should probably take this time to mention that the _Massive_ was not named without reason. Designed during Miyuki's reign and built within the first year of Operation Impending Doom I for Red and Purple, the _Massive_ functions as both a warship and a thriving community. Some sectors of the ship may never meet. It is divided into four main parts: the two smaller sections, the southern hemisphere if you will, are storage; one for food, one for combat gear; the two larger sections are the practical parts, one full of command centers, strategy rooms, army training facilities and backup generators, from which the Tallest do most of their business, and the other for residential purposes... Invader lounges, cafeterias, smaller command centers and only a couple of direct assault areas. The section in which the Tallest generally could be found also housed a host of Control Brains. Their location was unknown to the general populus. It was only known that they were there. Watching. Past each command center was also built an observation deck. I had seen only two of them, one near the landing bay for smaller ships, and the other that I had stumbled upon just now.

And there, at the railing, looking out over the rest of the Armada, was Tallest Purple. I knew he had seen me in the large window's reflection, otherwise I probably would have run to avoid confrontation. He addressed me first, without turning.

"Invader Zim," he greeted in his gliding contralto. He extended his right arm, inviting me to stand beside him. I would have _killed_ for such an honor only a few years prior. No, I mean it. I _would have killed._ Somehow, the thought disturbed me. I used to find no problem in taking lives for personal gain. I think seeing Gaz shot down was what turned it around for me...

"Sir?"

"How's the mission going?"

Purple's offer still stood, so I walked up and took my place beside him, where I came up to about his hip. Fuck it all, I began to miss my human height again. "It... well," I resigned myself to saying, forcing my gaze out to the stars. "It's going well. As well as it can, I suppose."

"Any progress?" Purple wondered.

"Some. It's all information processing at this point."

"A fine way to start," the Tallest complimented me. "Better than attacking at random." There was a slight pause, and then Purple asked, "Tell me about Earth. You spent a long time there, Zim. Did you enjoy it?"

"Sir?"

"With that as your answer," he laughed, "you'd better not lie."

I gave into a small laugh myself. Something about Tallest Purple always put me at ease. He always had been easier to approach than the hot-headed Tallest Red. Purple, while often aloof, was in a strange way kind. Oh, he was ruthless, no doubt about that—Probing Day (the check-in day that the Tallest did with Invaders on their missions, and even in years subsequently) had always been his favorite occasion, during which he and Red had all the authority to beat up on Invaders for basically no reason at all but their own enjoyment—but, especially comparing him to Red, he had some nice qualities. He was a leader to look up to, whereas Red was one to be feared.

"I did enjoy it, my Tallest," I confessed. "Humans are very interesting."

"Tall, you said, right?"

I did laugh this time. Six feet tall—_I_ had been six feet tall... the Tallest couldn't have been much taller than that... "Yes, but they're more complex than that," I told him.

"Do tell."

"The way they structure societies, for example," I explained. "The... the way they thrive on emotions, how they form partnerships, how they attract or repel one another, how they deal with all the other species around... it's an interesting race, that's all."

Purple gave no reply. At that moment, a scouting ship could be seen returning from a mission and rejoining its place in the _Massive's_ Armada. The ship distracted our attention, which was a relief to me, since talking about Earth was harder than I wanted it to be.

"Out of curiosity," I wondered, knowing too well I was using that word more than I should have been, "where are we exactly? What system?"

"Near Vort," Purple answered calmly. "We haven't heard anything about the Resisty lately, so I suggested we detour around here for a while just to make sure nothing was brewing. That would be the last thing we need right now... Vortian involvement..."

"Didn't Larb conquer Vort?" I ventured.

"He did, but the population isn't exactly all on our side, you know." Well, true. He had just mentioned the Resisty.

By now, everyone knew who and what the Resisty were, mainly because they had chosen such a stupid name. Dib and I had even come up against them, inadvertently. That seemed ages ago now. Led by a Vortian called Lard Nar, the Resisty was a group of rebels all fed up with Irken totalitarianism, bent on giving the Empire a good fight before going down. I was sure that the rebels knew they couldn't succeed. Not against Red and Purple. Not against this Empire. Then again, the Resisty had had time, come to think of it. It very well could have been that they'd grown in number since last I'd heard of them. Purple knew what he was doing, bringing the Armada around this way. Some Invaders called him crazy, and sometimes, yes, Purple did act childish at best, but one could not dispute his inate leadership skills. Red had raw power. Purple had talent.

"Is the Resisty still the only rebel group out there?" I ventured to ask.

"To our knowledge, yes," Purple said, with a slight sigh of relief. "We haven't heard much from Meekrob lately, either. I'd like to stop over there next, since we lost communication with Invader Tenn a long time ago."

"Invader Tenn never returned from her mission?" Odd. She'd been one of the higher ranked Invaders, one of the first chosen. Tenn, Skutch and Larb were the best, even if Skutch had a strange talent for making disastrous messes of things (sort of in the way that I always had, heh). It seemed strange that Tenn was missing. Come to think of it, I hadn't gone to any of the Invaders' lounges since returning. Then again, I was so highly disliked, it was probably for the best that I didn't try speaking to any of the other Invaders. Besides, it was doubtful that any of them had empathized with their conquered planets' races the way I'd come to know the humans.

"No," said Purple. "So I've been expecting a possible Meekrob retaliation as well, assuming she's been either captured or killed."

"Don't the Meekrob hate fighting?" I wondered. They'd always been an alarmingly peaceful race, never bothering anything that didn't bother them. Eh, well, I guess an Invasion _would_ bother them... and who knew what beings of pure energy would be capable of unleashing in an uprising.

"They do," Purple affirmed. "But even creatures with no will to fight may kill if threatened with the loss of their own lives."

Purple instantly became an enigma to me. I'd always known he was pretty smart, if a little crazy, but now he was sounding downright prophetic. Ever since returning to the _Massive..._ was I just more perceptive now that I had a human's outlook on things? Things were changing in strange ways, and all too quickly.

"Enough of that for now, though," Purple transitioned. "More about your mission. How goes that partnership with Tak?"

"Eh. She's taking ownership of everything," I said straightforwardly.

Before I could continue, or be asked more questions, Tallest Red's presence was made known.

"Hey," Red said from the other end of the room, near the hall. I turned to see him surrounded by the usual entourage of Advisors and guards. "There you are. Come on. Invader Skutch is back with intel." With that, Red left again, leaving behind a handful of guards to escort Tallest Purple to whatever briefing room he was needed in.

"See you around, then, Invader Zim," said Purple, heading off in the direction of the hall. "Keep me posted on how that mission of yours is going, all right?"

"Yes, my Tallest."

"Tell me more about Earth again, sometime, too," he grinned. Shit. I didn't really want to, but knowing the enemy was knowing the enemy. Purple had a right to know what the Empire was about to acquire.

"I will," I said.

With that, Purple motioned for the guards to go on ahead, which gave me an opening.

"Oh, and, eh, sir?" I added before he could go.

"Hmm?" Purple turned so regally I thought I'd get knocked out. That guy had an astonishing air of dignity about him that I knew I could never hope to possess.

"Tak mentioned something," I confided in him. "Well, MiMi did, and I tried to get Tak to explain."

"Did she?"

"She didn't tell me much, no," I said, bowing my head. "She mentioned something about the ancient Irkens. Talismans? I don't know. Doesn't sound like anything I'd ever heard of."

"Go on," Purple coaxed. "How much did she know?"

"Not much, or so she says," I told the Tallest. "Just that I shouldn't pry into it."

"Hmm. I wouldn't pry much if I were you, but report what you can to either me or Red," Purple instructed. "Tak shouldn't know much, if anything. Is there anything else she's doing, or has done, that seems suspicious?"

"Well, she, uh..." I began, wondering how much I should tell him. After all, neither of the Tallest knew anything about the fact that I had been human for eight days. That wouldn't settle well with them, I was pretty positive. "She, a little while ago, was able to warp time."

"That explains _that_ rift," I heard Purple mutter under his breath. "Anything else?" I hesitated, then shook my head. "Tell me if and when you hear anything. I need you to keep an eye on Tak, Zim. Red doesn't believe me when I tell him she has a secret agenda."

I grinned. A personal mission. I could live with this. And it was against Tak, which was even better. "I'll do everything I can, sir."

With that, I was dismissed and refreshed. And I had an in with one of the Tallest.

Maybe being Irken again wasn't so bad after all.

– – –

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**Author's Note:**

All set for this week's update~ _IZMS Part One: Changes_ will update again next Friday, May 13th! :3

~Jizena~

– – –


	8. Meekrob 1: The Chairman

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**Author's Note:**

_Invader Zim_ is -c- Jhonen Vasquez! Only the events of this story (and the character tweaking, heh) are mine. :3

~Jizena~

– – –

_Dib's Records_

"This is great," Tenn muttered, spitting her words out at me, "just _great."_ The two of us walked behind a line of four floating Meekrob; we were bordered on all sides by six more. From my crash site, we'd already walked about two and a half miles, and the arid, barren landscape told me we had quite a way to go yet. Overhead, it looked like evening. The sky took on hues of deep blues and purples, and more stars than I had ever seen in my city back on Earth hung overhead, in constellations humans could never dream of. The sights were pretty, yes, but I wasn't in much of a position to be admiring my surroundings, or even my captors. If they really _were_ my captors. The Meekrob had seemed pleased that I was human, but hadn't said anything else on the matter. All that had happened was them showing up, telling me and Invader Tenn to follow them, and starting us off on this trek that did little but conjure up butterflies in my stomach and stain my black boots red with the planet's surface dust. I'd seen Mars once, when I was eleven (and piloted Mercury, but that's another story...), so I knew the difference, but Meekrob was definitely similar, leading me to assume all the more that it was an oxygen-based planet. "I've been so careful," Tenn went on. "So _damn careful!_ Then along comes this _human,_ and I'm caught! I'd beat the hell outta you if I wasn't so sure you're also somehow my ticket off this planet."

"You're welcome?" I tried. Like the other aliens I'd come across in my life, Tenn was difficult to read. She seemed, for lack of a better word, hardened. She'd seen everything, and had clearly been through a few different kinds of hell. This person was a trained Irken Invader after all. I realized, in that moment, that she was the first real one I'd met. Barring the accident she had mentioned, this was what a real Invader should look like: poised, prepared, and with an eye for using any resource available. I took it upon myself to memorize what she did, how she acted, how she carried herself, so that I could report that back to Gaz (assuming I'd ever see a control station again). Tenn gave me a glimpse of what I'd be up against, if there really was going to be an Irken war against humans, as my sister so strongly believed.

"Just shut up," Tenn growled at me. "All I can say is, I'd better make it outta this."

"Do you know where they're taking us?" I ventured to ask her. I was ready to talk about more practical things, such as possible Meekrob weaknesses, and how we could potentially help each other out. Oh, I was reluctant to even think it, but I'd teamed up with Zim before plenty of times; I figured it wouldn't be the end of the world to bargain with one more Irken. Besides, knowing as much about Irkens as I did was a perk; we could work off of what we knew to try to get that ship flying again.

"Probably the capitol," said Tenn, not caring that the Meekrob were well within range of hearing what she said. "I set up base as close to the capitol as I could. Easier takeover that way, y'know? Plus, heavier population, better study. Anyway... ugh, yep, here we are." That solidified my guess that Tenn knew what she was doing, but I wasn't able to think about her much any more, once we were led over a hill.

Stretched out in front of us was a walled city, built on land not red like the outer desert, but slightly whiter than the sand that graces some of the beaches on Earth's southern hemisphere. The city itself was manufactured, but gave off an idyllic tone nonetheless. Imagine Renaissance Italy, rebuilt in materials reminiscent of steel and copper. The wall was nothing opulent, but the gate was beautiful: two doors manned by two Meekrob guards, their hands pressed together as if in prayer. While Meekrob wore no clothing, even sashes or medallions, their statuses in society were clear enough. I began to pick up on patterns of aura colors in various ranks. The guards were all enveloped in some shade of pink light; the whites and silvers, I guessed, were among the higher ranked. The two-doored gate, copper-toned in an otherwise silverlike arch and wall, bore an elaborate symbol that looked like a Henna outline of a butterfly. A Meekrob silhouette, I realized at a second glance. For the first time in my journey, my heart beat faster out of joy, rather than panic. This really was the stuff of dreams, the type of thing I had wanted as a child to see on other worlds. I never imagined I'd be granted such an opportunity at only thirteen.

While the gate had given me hope that things were looking up, the asymmetrical, thriving city that lay beyond them reminded me that I was, most likely, being marched straight to trial. Tenn and I were brought along a white stone path, which wound around metal high rise after metal high rise, complexes built in angular horseshoes around silver fountains, and smaller, simpler streets with buildings of an estimable four or five storeys; we passed numerous Meekrob along the way, and it was difficult to tell whether or not they were watching us. Tenn, I was sure, would get more glances, since the Meekrob were likely to have seen her around before, studying them, possibly living among them. I wondered, then, if Tenn had come up with a Meerkob disguise at all, and how she had done it. Hologram, most likely. If _Tak_ could master even solidified holograms, as she had displayed during the Incident, Tenn must have come up with something well thought-out.

Our winding, eye-catching path led us straight up the numerous steps of a well-sized—I'd say about the size of a regular city hotel—building made of the same copper-like metal as the gates that had led to the city. The large doors (too large, I thought, if only these petite Meekrob ever passed through them) were adorned with the same silhouetted, butterflyesque impression, and swung open to lead us down a hallway with reflective floors. The inside was open, allowing me to look up several storeys to what must have been the very top, and had little distinction between storeys other than a platform here and there with smaller doors leading elsewhere. Some platforms held ships, much different than Irken ships in design, and much smaller—the Meekrob ships looked like sleek white pods... probably very easily mistakable for a shooting star in the sky.

I was so overwhelmed with childlike wonder with everything around me, being jostled back to reality came at me suddenly, when Tenn and I found ourselves face to face with a black metal double door, square in shape and only about seven feet high, whereas the other grand double doors had to have been at least fifteen feet. The Meekrob escorting us waited, then glowed more brightly than before, as what I assumed was a signal just before the doors opened. Despite the small size of the doors, the room that lay beyond it was just as high-ceilinged as the rest of the building. The walls and floors were white and reminded me of marble, and there was a carved stage at the very back, over which hovered five Meekrob with silver auras.

My heart flopped into my stomach. A glance at Tenn was no reassurance—she looked as nervous as I felt, but she shot an angered glare at me, and for good reason. We were both thinking the same thing: we were on trial, and the only thing we were about to get out of it was imprisonment or death. Or worse. I had no idea what the Meekrob were capable of, nor did I really want to find out.

"Chairman," said the male Meekrob with the silver aura who had first addressed me, and then brought us to the capitol, "as requested, we have recovered the survivors of the landing site." Recovered? So they thought that Tenn and I were both in the crash—? I let myself feel hope again. I had to. For a moment, I even indulged in some study, taking note that _Chairman_ was the official title of the Meekrob leader. This one, I realized, had to be the leader. The one addresed looked stoic, and had greyish blue eyes; I wondered if that was a way to tell age. His palms were pressed together, and the Meekrob on his right and left had their heads slightly bowed in toward him; their position, I finally noted, was almost in a _v._

"Permit me to see them," the Chairman requested. Noiselessly, our entourage of guards parted, and all hovered instead behind us. The room was so silent, I could hear Tenn grinding her teeth (which must have been quite a feat for her, as Irken teeth all seem to be connected, and interlock when fully chomped together). "Ah," said the Chairman then, floating up to the Invader, causing her to tense, "the Irken is still among us." His voice was on a low register, and sounded indeed much older than that of the only other Meekrob I had heard speak thus far. In human years, I would estimate the Chairman to be in his late sixties or early seventies. The investigator in me had so many questions for him that the rest of me had to bite back in favor of keeping myself alive.

Tenn looked about as petrified as I'd ever seen an Irken be. Which is to say, she seemed more on-edge than usual. For a moment, my instincts told me to defend her, since, despite knowing her for roughly an hour, we were more or less on the same team right now... I mean, it was us against the Meekrob, or so it felt. I certainly didn't want to watch the only person around who understood Irken technology (and, therefore, my ship) to get caught, tortured, or worse. She was the closest thing I currently had to an ally; I had to keep any possible ally close and alive. Plus, I still had a lot of Irken society questions rolling around in the back of my mind to ask her.

Despite any nervousness she may have felt, Tenn still looked more than ready to defend herself. Yet, and this caught us both by surprise, the Meekrob Chairman seemed not to have anything unfortunate planned. "Your studies are going well, I presume?" he asked her.

"Excuse me?" Tenn said, her face contorting to convey her confusion.

"Were you not here for the purpose of biological study?"

"Uh, I guess you could say that," said the Invader, keeping up her guard.

"Our planet has treated you well?"

"Sure."

The Chairman closed his eyes, and his aura glowed brighter. I wondered if the Meekrob could communicate telepathically that way. After all, weren't they just energy? Conscious energy? They must have been able to do all kinds of unimaginable things. "State your name," he requested.

"You know, listen, I—"

"Please, Irken, state your name."

Tenn glanced over her shoulder at me. I shrugged. We were both lost, and now I was bothered, since I figured Tenn would have known a little more about Meekrob rituals, especially given that she had chosen to set up base so close to their capitol. "Tenn," said Tenn, turning to look back at the Meekrob leader. "My name's Invader Tenn."

"Invader Tenn," the Chairman repeated. "Please follow Neem to our back courtroom, where we will do our best to restore your uniform, and—"

"What? Are you seriously accomodating me..?" Tenn burst out. The Chairman held out his right arm, indicating the head guard that had brought us in; this must have been Neem. Neem took whatever hint had been given him and moved forward, escorting Tenn out of the room toward a door to my left. "Hold up!" Tenn protested as she was walked away. "Are we serious right now? What is going _on?_ One of you tell me at least—" And then she was out of earshot. I had little time to wonder what waited for her beyond that door, since at that point, the Chairman approached me.

"So," said the Meekrob now hovering directly in front of me. I fixed my gaze directly on him and instantly found myself caught. Such was the power of creatures made up of energy alone, I supposed. I felt trapped, like looking away would be painful. I felt very little, not afraid, not angry... not even willing to take action. "A human in our midst. What brings you here?"

"I... uh... my ship crashed," I said, finding my voice, surprised that it suddenly sounded so small. "Sorry, complete accident."

"Accident or not, it is a sign that you have come here," the Meekrob leader said again. His voice gave me chills, but not in a negative way.

_Just go with it,_ I thought to myself. _Whatever gets me home. Just comply, just keep this guy happy, just keep them all fine..._ "No, no, really, I—" I tried to protest.

"Nacea," the leader called out. Well, 'called' may not be the best word... 'ordered,' perhaps, though it did not sound like an order. It was an affirmation that the Meekrob now in question was being summoned, but the Chairman's voice was neither rash nor commanding.

"Sir?" Another Meekrob approached; her voice was light and airy, and her eyes seemed to be a softer blue than any of the others. The aura surrounding her was an iridescent white, which reminded me, somehow, of snow.

"Do you see this human as an ally or a threat?" asked the leader.

The Meekrob called Nacea approached me and her wide blue eyes locked onto mine. I was frozen. Just as the case had been with the Chairman, I could not look away. Nacea had her own 'pull' to her, I suppose I could say. It probably, I told myself, had something to do with the individual auras. Nacea's eyes softened, as though she were smiling, and she said, "There is nothing threatening about this human."

_Nothing at all?_ I wondered, wanting to be angry. At least it saved my life for now, I decided. I'd be grateful for that for the time being.

"Very well, then," said the convinced leader. "I trust your word. Human, please state your name."

"Dib," I answered. "My name is Dib Membrane." Using Dad's strange name gave me a bit of a chill, and brought me out of my little Meekrob-induced trance. It also made me think of my sister, who really deserved a call from me right about now.

"And I," said the leader, "am called Xeer." He pronounced it like the beginning of the word _xerox. _"Your presence is welcome indeed, Dib Membrane..."

"Really?" I had to ask, doubt creeping into me.

"It is," Chairman Xeer confirmed. I thought I may have seen him nod. "Sources have told us that our two nations are brothers in arms, so to speak. Is it true that your home planet is in danger of being under siege?"

"Uh... the Irkens are planning an Invasion on Earth," I replied, "so... yeah, I guess..." My heart fluttered. "Wait, what're you going to do to Tenn?"

"Invader Tenn is safe," Nacea, still hovering nearby, assured me. "Her threat level, too, is low. She will be a well-informed insight..."

"Wait, are you using us?" I wondered. Well, just great. This was no time to get into a fight, or even provoke anyone. And here I was provoking the leader; perfect.

"No," said the Chairman calmly. "We want only to exchange some information, if you will permit us. Whatever your decision, allow us to acommodate you while we can. We will see to it that you are soon on a path home."

"Why?" I wondered, without allowing myself a second to think his words through. I wanted immediate answers; the whole situation seemed highly suspect, or at least incredibly strange. "Why help me, if you barely even know me?"

"Because," said the Chairman, "you have already shared with us a wealth of information simply by coming here. We are now obligated to show our gratitude."

"Question."

"Yes?"

"Can you read my mind?"

"No," Chairman Xeer assured me. "We can, however, read your energy."

"My energy?" I repeated, feeling more skeptical by the second.

"Yes," Nacea answered matter-of-factly. "We Meekrob can read and analyze the energy of any matter, living or non. It is an ability that aids us in everything, from building cities to forming alliances."

"Huh," I mused, allowing myself an indulgent few seconds of looking around the well-constructed room. "And I'm one of those allies?" I guessed.

"That you are."

"Well, all right," I said, "I'll accept that. I'm looking for allies, too."

"We know," said Chairman Xeer. Of course they did. I turned my attention on him again. His eyes bore into me, but I somehow felt relaxed. "Welcome, then, to our capitol city of Sen Lek. Nacea, please escort this human to the back courtroom, and see that he is comfortable."

"Hold on, what's gonna go on?" I wondered as Nacea approached me again. "Seriously! What's happening? How long do you need me... for... information, or... whatever..?"

I was given no answer, and left through the same door Tenn had been escorted through, my mind heavy with questions. At least it was confirmed that the Meekrob were my allies. And, granted, I had plenty of information, now, too. Now it was all a matter of timing. I had to get off of Meekrob. I had to contact Gaz. I had to figure out the realities behind the Invasion. More than anything, though, I just really needed a shower.

– – –

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**Author's Note:**

Sorry for the short update today! I am in the middle of a move, so it has been a crazy week. But! _IZMS Part One: Changes_ will update again **tomorrow,** Saturday, May 14th! :3

~Jizena~

– – –


	9. Partnership 3: Keeping Tabs

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**Author's Note:**

_Invader Zim_ is -c- Jhonen Vasquez! Only the events of this story (and the character tweaking, heh) are mine. :3

~Jizena~

– – –

_Zim's Records_

Keeping tabs on Tak proved to be no easy task, but it was a challenge I gladly accepted. Plus, even though it was nothing I could tell her, I was on my way to being the coveted favorite of the Tallest. Something I'd always wanted, right there, available to me, as long as I managed to draw out intel on Tak's private doings. The more I thought about it, the more I realized my decision was being made for me. I'd been born Irken, after all. Once in, there really should be no way out until death. After all, who wouldn't want to be Irken? Organic Irken bodies merged with half-mechanized PAKs were close to immortal; humans had a good eighty years, tops. It was best for me to give up so much as the thought of being human again, and focus on climbing the Irken ladder of achievement, as I'd set out to do so long ago.

Of course, I got in my own way plenty of times. I still had a conscience, like it or not. And my arm still bothered me, and caused me to black out and see flashes of my past—oddly enough, it began to happen more frequently the longer I poked around Tak's private research.

The trick was getting into her side of the room when both she and MiMi were out. Tak would leave for several hours at a time, and only occasionally took her robot with her, no doubt for data collection. This was highly suspect, since she never left the _Massive._ To circumnavigate the _Massive_ would take days upon days, and Tak was being meticulously careful with her time... even so, I was convinced that she was memorizing the layout and making blueprints.

To my delight, I confirmed this during one of her long absences. With GIR as a lookout (taking his post very literally: he would scream, _"LOOKOUT!"_ every time someone passed by the room, which actually cut my time even shorter, since of course if the person was a guard I would have to stop what I was doing for questioning), I rummaged through Tak's computer, using the code she and MiMi had implanted in Gaz's game during the Time Warp:

_80891._

It was almost too easy, guessing the code. It gave me pause, though, since I remembered Dib saying (and, worse, MiMi confirming) that _80891_ stood for his birthday, August 8, 1991. My thoughts inevitably turned to Earth, specifically that town, specifically that street, that house. That roof. I groaned and stopped what I was doing for a minute, checking to make sure that GIR still stood guard outside the door, which was a one-way screen—we could look out without anyone looking in. My arm began to sting, and I groaned out of annoyance with the constant bother, and grabbed at the spot.

Closing my eyes, I let a flash come. This time, I saw only a few sparks of blue light, followed by the silhouette of someone, an Irken, I could not place. Then the past left me alone, and I shaped a memory I really could recall, in detail. I recalled the day that had gone by just before I'd learned anything about that code. It was the first day I'd lived out in full with that nasty gash on my arm, the most vulnerable I had ever felt. Human, I had attended school that day, engaged in normal conversation with others, blended right into the hundreds of other students, answered questions, taken notes, stolen a moment with Gaz alone in the library. Being normal had been pretty great. Severely underrated.

I bowed my head and shook the memories away. No purpose thinking about things like that now. Stay focused on the mission; stay focused on the mission, that was all I had to do. No more distractions, not now, not during my precious time alone in the lab.

Hacking through with the code, I uncovered nothing about the talismans, but did find information about where Tak had found the machine prototypes she had modified prior to and used during the Time Warp. The Time Warp Machine itself was indeed one of the late Tallest Miyuki's inventions, and had been locked up in a Vortian research lab that Tak had broken into during Vort's renovations after Invader Larb had conquered it. As for the data she had made the transmogrification device out of... that had been buried under a war monument by the last ever Elite Commander on the long-since-devastated wasteland of a planet called Kalleck.

And just when I was about to read more into it, GIR began screaming, _"LOOKOUT!"_ at such a high volume I could feel my head spin. GIR then burst back into the room and latched onto my head, and I whirled around to see Tak fuming behind me in the doorway.

"You prying little—get away from that computer!" Tak barked at me. I quit out of the program and re-locked it without her seeing, and backed away.

"I didn't see anything," I lied convincingly.

"You better not have! What were you doing?"

"I was gonna compare Earth research notes," I tried. "I had no idea when you were getting back."

"Well, next time, wait, you little shit. Get out of here."

"It's my lab, too!"

"Not right now. Leave!" Her eyes flashed, and I was out of the room before I felt myself move. Dammit.

While Tak did not go to the Tallest after that ordeal, she did set MiMi up as more or less my personal guard, which is one of the most annoying things I have ever had to endure. I worked through it, though, and sometimes managed to distract MiMi by suggesting she and GIR spar or something long enough to get out about five minutes of digging through Tak's files.

Eventually, my precarious work paid off, and I learned that the talismans Tak had spoken of (and that MiMi occasionaly did still mention in her non sequiturs) were something like puzzle pieces. They were objects, each one very different from the other, but made up of a common material:

Tavis.

Tavis was a mineral growing in rarity by the second, since it was one of the only natural resources left on Irk's surface. It used to exist in abundance, before planet Irk was built up into one large computer, and was mined mostly to craft weapons and ships. The actual shapes of the objects I was unable to find out before Tak's suspicions grew deeper, but it gave me more to work off of. Tavis. Learn all I could about Tavis and Tak. If I could remember what Tavis's natural property was, I could possibly piece together why the talismans were important. If they were that rare, that powerful, of course Tak would want them. I just had to confirm that she had some kind of plan revolving around them, in order to continue currying favor from the Tallest.

– – –

Now that Tak was even more cautious around me, and I could almost feel the breathless MiMi breathing down my neck at every turn, I began to seek out other ways of gathering information. After all, I was an official Invader now; I was back in the Army. I had every right to go into those lounges. Whether hated or just downright despised, I chose not to care any more, and gave myself a little pep talk, then finally took lunch in the lounge nearest the main observation deck one day.

As expected, the best foods from the various conquered nations (modified for Irken consumption, of course) were being served. While most Irken cafeterias are queue-based, with buffet counters to choose meals off of, the lounge was much more intimate, and numerous Service Drones were milling about, taking orders from the various victorious scattered in groups throughout the plush room. It was nearly an observation deck itself, with domed windows looking out over the Armada, and a large red oval floor. Tall, silent guards stood in pairs at each door, clad in deep red and purple uniforms. I felt very plain. Fuck, here it came again—another memory... I'd felt so much more honest self-worth as a human. Being human had come along with a feeling of blissful insignificance, whereas being Irken meant feeling the constant pressure to be better, better, better. Being human was just _being._ That really had been nice.

I shook the thought off and walked over to a low table, around which were a domed sofa and three domed chairs. Two of the chairs, one of which was a recliner, were occupied, as was one seat on the sofa. Taking the path of—what I considered to be—least awkwardness, I sat in the vacant chair and ordered a sandwich platter from the Service Drone that had immediately approached me. I wasn't used to being catered to, and decided to thrive in it while I could.

Of course, I immediately felt out of place again, once I turned to the middle and saw the other three Invaders staring at me. I recognized them instantly: small-statured, red-eyed Invader Larb, conquerer of Vort (possibly the most significant acquisition in the Invasion), sat in the sofa; the tall female Invader Zee, the only purple-eyed Invader (and therefore Tallest Purple's instant favorite), occupied the chair similar to the one I had chosen; lying back in the recliner, left leg bent up, bowl of popcorn on a side table to his right, was the troublemaking Invader Skutch, a look of utter disinterest on his young face. Skutch was indeed one of the younger Invaders, but, possibly because of this, he was one of the top-ranked fighters, right up there with Invader Tenn.

"Um..." I began, trying my best not to be sheepish in the presence of such high achievers, "hi, there."

"What're you doing here?" Skutch demanded.

"Getting lunch," I replied casually.

Skutch reached into his bowl and crushed a kernel between two fingers, then, still looking bored as could be, sprinkled it onto the floor, his red eyes not leaving me for a second. The action prompted a Service Drone to rush over and begin cleaning it. Without skipping a beat, Skutch reached down and hauled the overly short Drone up by the collar. The Invader leaned in and asked the less fortunate one, "Why is Zim in here?"

"I-I-I-I don't know, sir," the male Drone stammered, shaking in terror. "Or, well, I mean, he has clearance, after all, s-so—"

"Clearance?" Larb repeated, giving me an odd look. "You're official?"

"Yes," I said, folding my arms. "Skutch, let go of him."

"Fuck off, I'm not taking orders from you," Skutch spat back at me. Just to spite me, he kept a firm hold on the Drone. The human in me was highly disturbed, but I ignored the feeling, since Skutch was infuriating me in plenty of Irken ways that I could easily deal with.

"Jeez, since when have you been such a dick?" I growled at him.

"A what?"

"Never mind. When'd you get so cocky? I thought you were an Academy failure—"

I had to stop talking, since my comment caused Skutch to throw the Service Drone at me. I ducked, and the Drone collided with the chair, and both crashed down to the floor. Skutch then snapped at the Drone to pick up the mess as he stood to challenge me. He held out the hand with which he had been holding the Drone and shouted to the air, "New glove!"

Yet another Drone rushed up, removed Skutch's glove, showing the green skin beneath, then replaced the forearm-length black glove with a brand new one. "What was that for?" I wondered.

"Other one was dirty," Skutch snorted. "But that's not the issue here. Who're you to call me a failure, Zim?"

"You did fail history," Invader Zee pointed out in an almost absurdly calm voice.

"Zee, shut your pretty mouth," said Skutch. The more I thought about that comment later, the more I realized how weird it was. Most Irkens pay no attention to the opposite sex in flattering ways... even if a flattering word is used in a sexist manner. Well, I guess, furthermore, there was never any sexism in Irken society, either. Gender was meaningless. Skutch sure could tell the difference, though; even seemed to pay attention to it. Oh, the things I was learning. "I'm no more a failure than you! How'd you get official, anyway? What shit-hole planet did you bleed dry to get back here?"

"I, eh, funny you should mention that, but my Invasion is still sort of, um... in the works..." I had to admit.

"Why're the Tallest letting you do that?" Larb demanded.

"Because my mission's brilliant, okay?"

"Food's here," said Zee, once again attempting to calm things down. She had not moved at all; in fact, she was sitting quite serenely, her gloved hands folded in her lap. Huh. An Irken with manners, now there was a concept.

Skutch and I exchanged one more challenging glare, and then I resigned myself to sit on the other side of the sofa, since the chair the Drone had crashed into had just been hauled off for repair. Another host of drones delivered our food, which I chose to eat slowly. Larb and Zee conjured up a conversation about a sport I'd never heard of, apparently a ritual from the planet Zee had conquered, which she had taken a bit of a liking to and wanted to teach the rest of the Invaders, as a way to pass the time. Her planet, I picked up on during the conversation, had been called Adrak, and was now being used as a massive backup library for the information stored in the home computer on Irk—an idea of Tallest Purple's, which beat out most of Red's ideas, such as turning planets into parking structures. Larb's planet, Vort, was now a research prison... one of Red's better ideas.

Eventually, the conversation got back around to me, when Zee asked what my plan was.

"My plan?" I repeated. "Ah, eh, yes! My plan. My plan is, eh... well, we're taking a psychological approach. We're keeping the Earth inhabitants alive, we can use them and the planet's resources."

"Psychological approach?" Larb queried.

"Who's 'we?'" Skutch demanded before I could answer Larb.

"We? Oh! We—I have a partner." And now came the moment I was waiting for. "Tak."

All three Invaders' expressions turned sour. "Tak?" Zee repeated dolefully, her smooth, light voice sounding spoiled.

"Yeah," I said, playing ignorant, "what's so bad about her?"

"Well, I mean, isn't she..." Zee began.

"Unstable?" Larb offered.

"Unstable how?" They were playing right into it! Perfect.

"Well, hey, don't get me wrong," said Larb, "she's brilliant. And she's a great soldier and all. I had classes with her back on Devastis, though, before she got kicked out. She's a go-getter anyway."

"Yeah, but unstable?" I prompted again.

"The way she goes about getting things done," said Zee, setting down her Irken-style burrito. "She's very roundabout. You'll think you know exactly what she's doing, and then all of a sudden she'll reveal that her methods were different all along." Okay, well, at least others noticed it, too. This was at least something.

"If you ask me," said Skutch, chomping down on a fried... something that may or may not have been alive at some point, "she's more brilliant than crazy. Oh, she's crazy, but she's productive crazy."

"Yeah," Larb laughed. "Careful she doesn't turn the mission around on you, Zim."

"Doesn't she steal things a lot?" Zee asked the collective group.

"Takes what she wants, kinda," Larb agreed. "Machine parts, data chips... she stole a whole engine outta my practice ship once during training because hers was faulty."

"If your track record still stands," Skutch said to me, "I'd say you and Tak are kinda evenly matched."

"My track record?"

Skutch made a face, and the other two looked down. Oh. Another one of those things that others knew about me that I didn't. Okay, so I had stolen things before. What Irken hadn't? But I didn't make a habit of it, as Tak apparently did. So I thought. "Never mind," Skutch muttered. For once in the hour, he looked slightly guilty.

I wasn't able to get much else out of Larb, Skutch and Zee after that, since conversation then shifted to what was being done about the Resisty (scouts being sent out to sites at which the rebels had been spotted previously), and then lunch more or less ended, and we scattered to do our respective jobs. As I walked back to my shared lab, I continued thinking about those three, and who among them I could potentially go to again for information. Larb was probably the most intelligent, with Zee being the most approachable. Skutch was arrogant and a bit irritating, but, go figure, he was more my speed. Plus, he was one of the scouts out looking for the Resisty. Maybe I could talk him into being something of an ally in the future.

For now, I had a bit of information to report to the Tallest. If they could stop Tak from stealing things from the _Massive_ before she could make a move, I'd have had a hand in possibly preventing another situation like the Time Warp. That'd be a job well done.

Plus, whenever we spoke, Purple asked me about Earth. It was the only time I really allowed myself to slip into fonder memories of the place, while every other second of the day was spent trying to make myself forget about it all. I never went into specific detail, but I couldn't help the fact that, every time, I would think at least once of Gaz. Usually, once she crossed my mind, I'd make myself end the conversation. Tallest Purple couldn't know that I'd let a human weaken me. He couldn't know that I'd let myself be so enamored by 'the enemy.' No one could know. I had a mission I had to stick to, now. Exposing my weakness was not a part of the plan.

– – –

– – –

**Author's Note:**

_A note on names:_

So these past couple of chapters have introduced some of my own ideas woven into the pre-established Zim universe, and I thought I'd make a note. In pure _Invader Zim_ tradition, most of these names come from food products!

Neem: A tree native to India, Bangladesh, etc., in tropical regions; the fruit and oil, in fact most of the tree, can be used for medical purposes, as well as ingredients in food, like rasam and curry.

Nacea: Taken from the end of the word "echinacea," a midwestern American flower with medicinal qualities, found in many teas and tisanes, as well as a tisane on its own.

Xeer: Not actually a food or anything; I did get the name from _xerox._

Sen Lek: Narrow Thai rice noodles, used in soups and dishes like Pad Thai.

Adrak: The Indian word for ginger, found in most Indian dishes, like curry… even chai tea! (I get really excited about tea.)

Kalleck: Absolutely no meaning whatsoever. :P

See you again next Friday, May 20th! :3 If all goes as planned, it should be a big update next week! And thank you, thank you for the awesome reviews so far~ 3 I'm so happy that this story is being read and enjoyed~!

~Jizena~

– – –


	10. Meekrob 2: Nacea

– – –

**Author's Note:**

_Invader Zim_ is -c- Jhonen Vasquez! Only the events of this story (and the character tweaking, heh) are mine. :3

Addendum: Xeer, Neem, Nacea, and most Meekrob terminologies/customs/etc. are also my own, from speculation based on the series.

~Jizena~

– – –

_Dib's Records_

I was able to re-join Invader Tenn in what the Chairman had called the 'back courtroom.' Now, I was expecting, by 'courtroom,' some kind of justice hall, but wound up in no such place. The Meekrob leader had literally meant that this was a court—a large, square, walled-in area ironically about the size of an outdoor tennis court. The floors were a shimmering black, like polished granite, which offset the bright white walls and made me feel like I was in some weird cubed version of a chessboard. There were black granite-ish balconies on all four walls, stacking up each storey of the capitol building, and an unsupported dias elevator ran vertically and horizontally around the walls as a means of getting to each floor, though the Meekrob did not have any use for it, as they were able to hover. I wouldn't call what they did 'flying,' really... just a really specific kind of levitation. The Meekrob were confusing but fascinating creatures: while they looked like butterflies, they behaved more like mythological will-o-the-whisps, yet they conversed like highly proper humans. Or, it was possible that they were able to tell what language was most comfortable for me and Tenn to use, and modified their own speech in order to converse with us.

Nacea led me over to the elevator, which whisked us up to the third floor. A door stood on the long granite platform, and Nacea ushered me inside, asking, "What is your preferred hygenic ritual?"

"Huh?" I had to yet again snap out of being so immediately and wildly obsessed with this other world I was on.

"In here, you may—what is your phrase for it?—wash up," said Nacea, glowing just before she spoke the last two words.

"Oh. Really? Um... thanks..." I said. And once again I was put a little on edge by the idea of the Meekrob being able to read my mind. "I'd really like to take a shower, actually. And wash my clothes, if I can."

"You do not clean both yourself and your clothing at once?" Nacea queried innocently.

"Uh, no."

"How is a 'shower' performed?" she wondered.

"Um, well, you know... or, heh, I guess you don't, um... water... d'you have water here?"

"Water. Yes."

"Wow, that's convenient," I found myself saying. I tended to have huge strokes of luck with alien races having similar substances and technologies to Earth, manmade or otherwise. "So, a shower is where water pours down on you..."

"Oh! We have that," said Nacea proudly, sounding almost like a child who had figured out a difficult equation. "Come in! Please."

I laughed a little to myself, and followed Nacea inside the next room. Within, there was a tiled white floor with a shimmering fountain at the center. The fountain poured down from the next storey up, and collected in a round basin. I did not question where it could possibly drain to, because Nacea was right... that would do for a shower. Nearby, too, was a smaller basin, in which I'd be able to soak my dirty clothes. That just left the challenge of towelling off afterward.

After a small and slightly embarrassing discussion with Nacea over why I wanted her out of the room while I washed up, I was, for the first time on Meekrob, alone. The door clicking shut after Nacea had floated out echoed through the room, and I heaved a sigh. Usually, I really enjoyed being alone. This loneliness, so far from home, only reminded me of how my sister must have been feeling at that point.

As I showered, I wondered if Gaz had, in my absence, attempted to contact Zim again. I wouldn't blame her for it... after all, he was the only other person she ever talked to, since Dad provided no company, and Gaz did not have a penchant for making friends. My heart sank with the thought. The only other person she cared for was him. My old enemy. I'd lost track of him, and hadn't been able to question Tenn any more on how much she knew him. She'd be able to provide at least some insight. But Gaz... how desperate was she? I had to contact her. Plain and simple. That had to be the next thing I asked any Meekrob about: a control center. A phone. A telegraph machine—anything.

Luckily, there was a little section of the room, which Nacea had pointed out to me before parting, that functioned as an instant solar panel. I set my clothes on the panel, a square in the corner of the room that glowed gold, and they were dry on the spot. After some hesitation, I did the same trick on myself: it was a weird feeling, like being shocked with a quick jolt of electricity, but it did the job. I dressed again, thankful I hadn't hit another growth spurt recently, then knocked on the door, hoping Nacea, or at least someone, was on the other side.

Indeed, when the door slid open, Nacea still hovered there, and she outstretched her thin arms in greeting. "Was it to your standards?" she asked me.

"Yeah, it was great, thanks," I said. "Hey, um, Nacea... am I pronouncing that right? _Nah-_kay-ah?"

"Nah-_kay-_ah," she corrected me. I heard it, I registered it, but somehow, after that, I still kept saying _Nah-_kay-ah. Nacea didn't seem to mind.

"Okay. Um, where's Tenn? She's still here, right?"

"Yes," said the Meekrob, dropping and clasping her hands, which somehow made her seem like she was nodding. "Tenn is now with your recovered ship."

"What?"

"Come with me. I will explain what our Chairman has decided."

I followed without question, but I did ask one thing along the way: "Do you have any means by which I can contact someone here? Like, do you have a control center with a video screen, or even a voice-activated communication system, or..?"

"We do not," said Nacea, a hint of sadness in her airy voice. My stomach flipped. Dammit. "We Meekrob communicate very rarely with other planets nowadays."

"Nowadays? So you used to?"

"Before the first Great War," Nacea answered. "It was the first instance of attempted Irken dominance, during which our sister planet, Kalleck, was obliterated. I have only recently undergone all of my historical schooling," she went on, "so I am regrettably not the best to ask, as to why we fully shut down our systems. Your ship is repaired, however, so perhaps if you have a communication device on it, it will be repaired as well."

My heart beat faster. "Yeah, good point," I realized. "So... schooling, huh? Sorry, if you don't mind my asking, are you pretty young by Meekrob years, or..?"

"I am," said Nacea, "in comparison to many others. Yes."

"How is it that you work with the Chairman?" I heard myself ask before I could stop myself from being that intrusive. Investigator at work, here.

"We are a similar clan. It is only natural that I work with him."

"Similar clan, huh? So, the auras you guys have... they're like family or status colors or something?" Answers! Answers were good.

"Our light? Yes," Nacea confirmed. "It governs how we move in our culture. We are a very integrated society, Dib Membrane. We live very peacefully, so status may not be quite as cut out as you may think."

"Oh. Well, thanks for that. I'm really curious about your culture, Nacea," I admitted. "Also, um... while I'm at it, why are you guys helping me? Us? Sorry, you were going to say something about what the Chairman had decided. I interrupted you."

"That is all right," Nacea said. As she led me down a few shining corridors on the next floor down, she continued, "Because we have not been in contact with other races for so long, our Chairman was very excited when you came to us. Both of you."

"But didn't Tenn come to—" I shut my mouth, since it hadn't exactly been brought up yet, but I realized that Nacea had most likely read my intended thought anyway.

"That is in the past," said Nacea kindly.

What a great thing to say. Too bad humans couldn't be more like that. Some are, some aren't (most I know aren't). I came to the conclusion that I really liked the Meekrob, even if I couldn't read their emotions too easily, and even if their manner of speaking did kind of freak me out. That could possibly be because they never seemed angry or judgmental. The more I talked to Nacea, the more I confirmed that idea.

"We are a simple society," the Meekrob went on, "and we wish only to preserve our culture. Our Chairman is hoping to work out an alliance with you, if you are interested. It will be an exchange of knowledge."

"Knowledge about Earth, or the Irkens?" I wondered. "I mean, I remember him saying something about sharing information, I just... Nacea, am I going to be held here?"

"Oh," she replied calmly, "no. I apologize if you were worried. The Chairman sees in you a possibility, Dib Membrane."

"You can just call me 'Dib,'" I said. It's tough for me to hear 'Membrane' repeated too much, especially in reference to me, but of course I did not bore Nacea with reasons why. Just omitting saying it would be enough. "Just use my first name. Please," I added. The Meekrob were more polite than anyone I'd ever known; it was hard for me to even want to keep up with their manners.

Nacea showed that she understood, then led me into the last stop on our little trip: a large docking bay, filled with Meekrob pod ships—which I later learned were called Nampla Pods—and a few scattered computers—which I learned were merely for information storage, not communication of any sort. At the center of the room, recovered and restored, and actually looking nicer than I'd ever been able to get it to look, was the Spittle Runner. It was huge compared to the Nampla Pods, but it made sense, since Irken ships were designed for a pilot, a possible co-pilot, and storage for food, collected items, and, though I hated thinking about it, a prisoner or two. Then again, I only knew about a few different types of Irken ships: the Spittle Runners were average, Invader-issued ships, and Tak's was a modified version of those, making it even a little bigger; the Voot Cruiser was an antiquated form of the Runner, and was the type of ship Zim had arrived on Earth in; finally, I knew about the _Massive,_ the Irken mothership, for lack of a better word. It was a second home to most of them, I knew that much. I had yet to discover how 'massive' the ship actually was, but it was on my to-do list. Right up there with contact my sister and eat about eight meals at once. I was famished, and I only realized that when I walked up, awe-stricken, to my beautifuly-repaired ship, to find Tenn standing next to it eating a sandwich.

Before I could even say a greeting, I blurt out, "Where'd you get that?"

"Hi yourself," Tenn muttered, with her mouth full. As she continued chewing, I took in her condition: her uniform had been cleaned up, and her skin as well. I realized I had no idea how Irkens cleaned up, since they had an aversion to Water, but I figured the Meekrob must have had some trick to help her out. When she swallowed, she said, "I had this. That Neem guy started asking me questions about what I was doing here, and I figured it was kinda useless to lie. Plus, I was hungry. Told 'em where my base was, got my food back. It was that easy."

"You'd just out yourself like that?"

"Hey," she shrugged, ripping off another piece of the sandwich, which I had to restrain myself from grabbing right out of her hands I was so hungry, "these Meekrob actually aren't too bad. Plus, my mission's over. I hate the Tallest for that shit they threw at me anyway. I wouldn't go back even if they wanted me. I'm taking what I've got, now."

At that point, I gave Tenn a lot more credit, and upped her on my possible allies list. Sure, she was a strong soldier, and very astute, but best of all, she was logical. I liked dealing with other logical people. Tak, Zim, my dad, even most of the Swollen Eyeball... not many people in my immediate circle of knowledge used logic very much. Having an Irken on my side would be a good thing; having a _logical_ one on my side was even better.

"Here," she then offered. I realized she was holding out a brown bag to me, and I took it before I could register what was going on. "I've got plenty more. Stocked up, you know."

I opened the bag and peered inside to find a wrapped sandwich, stamped on the top with an Irken insignia, and a can of what I guess was soda, also stamped with the insignia and written on in the indecypherable Irken language. Every time I'd dealt with the Irken written language on my computer, I'd just converted it through binary into English. Wouldn't work with reading labels. "Oh, uh," I said, taking the sandwich out, skpetical now that I realized that, yes, this was _Irken food,_ "thanks, but... I dunno if I can eat this. I mean, even digest it."

"Well, it's that or Meekrob food," said Tenn.

I turned to Nacea. "What do you Meekrob eat?"

"We do not," said Nacea. "We ingest energy from the atmosphere."

"Okay, that's... not anything I can live off of, so... huh. Huh." I looked back at the sandwich and said, "Well... thanks Tenn. I do appreciate it, I just... hope I can eat it."

Zim had had a severe allergic reaction to human food, I remembered... well, up until he'd _been_ human for a week, but that was different... so it stood to reason why I would be nervous about allergic reactions the other way around. Could humans eat Irken food? Only one way to find out. Bracing myself, I took a bite. And another one. Ravenous, I ate the whole thing before I realized it had actually not tasted half bad, and that I was keeping it down just fine. I went for the soda with a bit more trepidation, but found it, too, to be pallatable. Irken food was apparently a little more bland than its counterparts on Earth, but it agreed with me. The fact that I'd eaten Irken food didn't completely disturb me until later, because in the moment I was so grateful to have been able to eat something—anything.

"Thanks," I said to Tenn once I'd finished, and was working on the last half of the can of soda. "I really needed that."

"No problem," she said, giving me an odd look. "You want more?"

"You have more?" I wondered. "How much?"

"I told you," said Tenn, "I stocked up. The ship is full of food."

"Oh, okay. The ship is—WHAT?" Now, _that_ I caught onto right away. And now I didn't care that I was glaring. Yes, Tenn had mentioned that she thought I could be her ticket away from Meekrob, but it seemed like she intended me to be her taxi driver.

Tenn shrugged. "I agreed. Like I said, the Meekrob actually aren't half bad."

"Yeah, yeah, um... agreed to what?"

Turning to Nacea, Tenn asked, "You didn't tell him?"

"I had not come to it," Nacea said. Her eyes focusing directly on mine, the Meekrob continued, "Our leader wishes to exchange knowledge with you. Whether this is done here or from your home is up to you. We thought that you would rather return to your home, as you continue to mention needing to communicate with somebody there."

"Yeah, and the screen on the ship's still fried," Tenn added, patting a gloved hand against the Runner. _My_ Runner. Which was apparently being volunteered for something.

"Okay, so, wait, how could I send you information from Earth if Meekrob is cut off from other planets?"

"Our Chairman has appointed me as a representative to accompany you!" Nacea said, as if that was all the explanation anything required. "We are able to communicate without your technologies, we Meekrob."

I was floored. "You can't just say out of nowhere you're coming with me!" I yelped.

"It is not from nowhere, it is what our Chairman has decided."

"Yeah, and I'm going, too," Tenn added.

"WHY? I mean, what? I mean, no!" I shouted. This was too much to process. "No, no, no, no, no! I have too much on my hands already, I can't harbor two aliens at my house, I can't take you to Earth with me, this is ridiculous!"

Even so, my options were slim. It was clear that the Meekrob wanted something from me, in order for me to deserve all of their strangely immediate hospitality. I was sure I could get more on that from Nacea later, especially now that it looked like I was going to be seeing quite a bit of that Meekrob representative. Not to mention an Irken Invader. I was in over my head, and yet I couldn't deny, especially when both of them brought it up, that I needed allies. Plus, if I had them with me, I'd have proof. Proof to show to the Swollen Eyeball. Someone from Irk who could possibly spill a few things about Zim... if not to me, then to Gaz, to keep her satisfied.

It was either comply with the Meekrob this way, or stay here. Shit.

Things could always be worse, though, I suppose.

To be honest, though, and I told Nacea this, I was shocked and a little sad to have to leave so soon. I had only just started to take Meekrob in, and now, barely hours there, I had had my ship repaired and was being told that I could leave again. I wanted more time, to investigate, to learn about that world, but at the same time, I was dying to go home.

As I talked it all out a little more, with both Nacea and Tenn, I came to realize that I was going to have a bit more time here, due to something else the Chairman wanted me to do. It killed me that calling my sister would have to wait, but, again, I was in no position to want to displease any of the Meekrob. I had the promise of going home. That much was fine. With that as a prize, I told myself to work toward it, no matter what. I had, I estimated, a few days on Meekrob ahead. Tenn had packed up the ship in preparation (and her blatant desire to leave), but we weren't finished with the planet yet.

"It is as our Chairman has said," said Nacea, once I'd reached my final understanding. "Your coming here, Dib, is a sign. Whether you stay with us or not, you were meant to come, and you were meant to meet our Chairman. We were meant to be allies."

"Yeah, no, yeah, I remember him saying that," I told her, submitting, "and, honestly, I find it kinda weird. What's this 'sign' business all about?"

"Oh, that is simple," said the earnestly simple Nacea. "It means that everything is about to change."

And there I was, confused all over again.

"Change... how..?" I wondered. "For whom? Why?"

"For the better, for everyone impacted by the Empire," Nacea answered. "As for why, well..."

I sighed. "Lemmie guess. Something I'll have to figure out on my own, or something."

"Oh, good!" said Nacea. "You do understand."

"No, I mean—" Nacea blinked slowly, and then just stared at me, her blue eyes vast, endless. "Never mind." I'd ask someone else later, I made a note to myself. Change, huh? Something involving me? Well, if it was change I'd have to bring about on my own, I knew where to start, just as soon as I got back home. Things were going to change in the Network. The Swollen Eyeball would hear me out this time for sure. The Meekrob wanted change from me? Sure. I'd change the course of that ridiculous Invasion. Somehow. Step one was still get the hell home. Soon enough, I told myself. The Meekrob were on my side. Tenn more or less was, too.

And, oh, yes, change was indeed coming. I felt it then, though the true impact was something I yet could not fathom.

– – –

– – –

**Author's Note:**

_A note on names:_

Nampla: From Nam Pla, which is Thai fish sauce, a standard in Thai dishes.

~Jizena~

– – –


	11. Back Home: A Glimpse of My Father

– – –

**Author's Note:**

_Invader Zim_ is -c- Jhonen Vasquez! Only the events of this story (and the character tweaking, heh) are mine. :3

~Jizena~

– – –

_Gaz's Records_

The moon had gone through every phase, and there was still no sign of my brother. I couldn't come up with any more excuses for Dad. I was beginning to fear for Dib's life. I started losing my grip and becoming not more depressed, as I would have thought, but just... _weaker._ Dib and I had become so close... seeing no sign of him whatsoever for an entire month ripped me apart. And I didn't really think Dad would care, until one night, when he came home early from work, seeming downtrodden.

"Any sign of your brother yet?" he asked me when I greeted him at the door. He didn't sound angry at all. He sounded dejected.

"No," I admitted sadly.

Dad sighed. "I knew this would happen," he muttered under his breath. Before I could ask him why he said that, he disappeared downstairs into his laboratory. I waited for a minute, then silently followed, as he had left the door ajar.

I stepped lightly, so as not to let him know that I was there. When I'd reached the bottom of the stairs, I heard his voice coming from a far corner of the laboratory, where I'd never gone before. As I approached, his voice became clearer; it sounded like he was talking to someone, but nobody else's voice could be heard.

"I knew it!" Dad was practically yelling. "You told me that this would happen..."

I rounded the corner and gasped, immediately cupping a hand over my mouth, hoping my father hadn't heard me. I hid for a moment, then peeked around the corner again, barely believing what I saw.

Dad had undone the collar of his lab coat, and his goggles hung loosely around his neck. The lights were dim, so I could not see his face, but I lingered, hoping I could finally catch a glimpse of my _real_ father... the man he was before my mother had left.

"You were right," Dad sighed, turning to look at a photograph standing on the nearby work table. He picked up the frame and dusted off the glass, then set it back down, closer to the light. My heart skipped—though I could not see it very clearly, I knew that it was a photograph of my mother. I thought all of those photos had been destroyed.

Dad sank down to his knees, now at eye level with the photograph. I could clearly make out his silhouette. "I've done it..." he said, speaking to the photograph, choking a bit on his words. "I've finally lost him."

– – –

– – –

**Author's Note:**

Not as big an update this week as I had wanted, but next week, I promise, things are really going to start getting set in motion! We're moving fast through these first few chapters, but heading into the main plot; I'm excited to start posting the next few chapters!

Again, sosososo many thanks to the positive reviews so far! See you next Friday, May 27th, with a fun (and definitely big!) update to _Part One~!_ :3

~Jizena~

– – –


	12. Meekrob 3: Homecoming

– – –

**Author's Note:**

_Invader Zim_ is -c- Jhonen Vasquez! Only the events of this story (and the character tweaking, heh) are mine. :3

~Jizena~

– – –

_Dib's Records_

Everything happened in a bit of a blur the next few days. Now that my ship was repaired, I basically spent most of my time getting to know the planet, and getting to know Tenn and Nacea a little better. Tenn reminded me a bit of my sister, whom I missed terribly, and Nacea was like no one I'd ever known. They were almost opposites, but I could talk to both of them easily. One day, in front of Chairman Xeer and his 'council' (which basically meant all the other Meekrob with silver auras), Tenn gave what sounded like a formal apology for trying to destroy the planet, and the Meekrob in turn apologized for wrecking her ship. As for me, I spent the time that wasn't wasted sleeping in the Meekrob's library, where I could make neither heads nor tails of any of their tomes. I had mentioned to Nacea that I was a reader, but I failed to mention that my language was written out much differently. As much as a part of me yearned to learn the Meekrob written language, I was not taught how, since Nacea assured me that she would read to me whatever was important later on.

And by 'later on,' she apparently meant 'on Earth.' Chairman Xeer would not hear otherwise. Nacea and Tenn were to accompany me back to Earth. Nacea for research and communication purposes, Tenn because she didn't want to go back to the Empire. Which was fair enough. I got a few headaches trying to figure out where the hell they could possibly stay in my home, especially without my father knowing. Then again, he was such a space case nowadays, it was doubtful he'd notice at all. I could hear it now: "It's nice to see you finally having some friends round, son," he'd say, and go off back to one or the other of his labs. Huh. Maybe their presence would even help a little. Of course, I noted again and again to myself, they'd have to blend in somehow. I was confident that Tenn could develop a convincing human hologram. As for Nacea... I'd find out. Who knew... maybe she could even turn herself invisible.

As sad as a good part of me was to be leaving such a new, fascinating planet so soon, I had to. I'd been obsessing over nothing but how my sister was doing for days. I had to get back, even just to tell her I wasn't dead and floating in the vastness of space somewhere. The Meekrob were overwhelmingly sympathetic to my reasons for leaving, oddly enough, and let me go with just a promise.

"You are free to return to Earth," said Chairman Xeer, on the—what I figured was—morning of my departure. It was my last time in the capitol, the last time in that building, the last time standing before the Chairman on his home planet. "Please, do what you can to make our Nacea feel at home among you humans."

"I... I'll try," I promised.

"And one more thing." I was standing beside Tenn, who looked just as eager as I was (if not more) to leave Meekrob's atmosphere and be back on track toward Earth. "It is our wish, mine and my council, to bestow upon the two of you, our finest guests, the title of Ambassador."

"Ambassador?" I repeated. "I'm only thirteen! Why—"

"And I kinda tried to kill all of you," Tenn added. She did not beat around the bush. Point taken about Tenn. I kind of liked that, though. She was more than honest, she was straightforward and blunt. I would have preferred a _lot_ of people in my life at that point to be as blunt as Tenn. It would have made things much easier. "You sure you wanna give a title like that to me?"

"Ambassador is an honor," the Chairman explained, "but it is not the highest." Hooray, more bluntness. Finally, something like that from a Meekrob. Their flowery language made it hard to figure out when they were elaborating and when they were being completely realistic. "It is merely a title given to those of other races we trust. Given more time, and more trust, perhaps Nacea will share our greatest wisdoms with you."

In the back of my mind, I thought back to when Zim had tricked me into believing that the Meekrob had visited me. Whatever he'd been thinking at the time, it was dumb on his part (but that had once been standard, with him), since he had given me a proper glimpse into what to expect from them, from image to lofty language. I had also been tricked into learning about Meekrob elemental powers. Now, Meekrob, again, are comprised in body entirely of energy. That energy can then be shot out, like bolts, from the hands, and deliver some—a concentrated amount, at least—damage to a foe. I hoped that that part was not only real, but the 'greatest wisdoms' of which Xeer had spoken. Only time would tell. If that kind of power was within my grasp, then hell yes, I was more than happy to bring Nacea along.

Tenn and I accepted our titles, and it wasn't long until I was back at the Runner, this time with two traveling companions. Tenn wanted to pilot, but I shot her down right away. I knew my course back to Earth, and I was very possessive of this Runner, thank you, I let her know. Nacea asked about Earth along the way... and on the subject, Tenn was peculiarly quiet. Tenn's knowledge of humans unnerved me. She had told me that all Irkens knew _what_ a human was, regardless of whether they knew what one looked like. Did that mean that all Irkens had always known about Earth? And, in that case, was Zim's Invasion more than just a fluke?

The sooner I got home, the better.

And within days, Meekrob seemed like a passing dream, because there home was again.

I've almost never been happier to see that spinning blue globe. It's always a welcome sight.

– – –

I landed the Runner in the front yard, eased it into the garage, where, as I had hoped and assumed, Dad's car was not. I told Nacea and Tenn to stay with the Runner and may have blurted out something along the lines of, "You need holograms," but I was too concerned with apologizing to my sister to remember if I had given those two the order or not. Plus, even though they knew what _I_ looked like, they still had to fit the gender description in hologram. Oh, well. That could wait.

"Gaz?" I called, bursting through the front door. "Gaz, you here?"

"Oh, my _God!"_ I heard my sister cry out from upstairs. She came flying down the stairs and nearly knocked me off my feet with a running hug. "Dib... oh... oh _God!"_

"I-It's okay, Gaz..." I tried to console her, holding my sister close. "Gaz, it's all right; I know I lost contact with you for a few days, but..."

"A few _days?"_ Gaz repeated, looking up at me, her eyes filled with tears. "Dib, you've been gone for three _months!"_

"What?" I yelped. Oh, crap. Oh, shit. My heart stopped, then flared up. That couldn't have been right. Was the time difference really that off? "N-No, I... I was only gone a _week_ at the most!"

"Dad thought you left," Gaz said, dryly despite the tears in her eyes. She took a step back, then gave up and hugged me again. "He's even more distant... but I even... Dib, it's been _three months_ since you left! Dad's all but given up on you ever coming back at all!"

I shook my head, barely believing what she was saying. "Three months..." I repeated. "Gaz, where's Dad now? I need to talk to him!" Well, that came out of nowhere. Usually, I didn't care what Dad thought. But if I'd really been gone three months, even that bastard deserved to know that I was alive.

"I wouldn't go to the studio lab if I were you," my sister warned. "Wait until he comes home... whenever that will be. He's home less and less, like he ever came home at all before..."

"You've been _alone_ for three months?" I practically shouted. Aaaaand I was angry at him again.

"I missed you..." was all Gaz said in reply, holding me tightly. "From now on, wherever you go, I'm going, too. I don't ever want to go through that again. Being alone sucks. It _sucks._"

I heaved a painful sigh and just held her close. All I could do now was provide what comfort I could; I'd have to deal with my father later. And as selfish a thought as it was... Gaz's reaction proved to me that she hadn't sought after Zim while I'd been gone.

After a while, I remembered, "Oh, yeah... Gaz, I..."

"Yeah?"

"I didn't return alone."

"What?" Gaz wondered.

"Come out to the garage with me," I said, walking to the door again. Gaz followed me; as we approached the garage, she cautiously took hold of my arm and walked closer. I looked down at her, and she just stared down. She'd _never_ needed me this much. _I guess I really have been gone for a long time, huh?_ I thought to myself. It wasn't even so much that she was showing how much she'd missed having me around... it was that she was staying in contact. Gaz had always hated physical contact, even (or especially) among family members. I couldn't say I blamed her. I wasn't really into that kind of thing, either, but Gaz was adament about it, or always had been in the past. Right up until that week with Zim. As much as I hated that Irken, I had to give him credit for luring Gaz out of her shell a bit. Even if now it made her more afraid than she'd ever been.

We walked into the garage and I motioned to the Spittle Runner. "I ran into some allies while I was gone," I told Gaz.

She looked up and gasped when she saw Tenn sitting in the cockpit of the Runner.

"What the hell?" she stammered, letting go of me and standing her ground.

Tenn raised an eyebrow and looked skeptically at Gaz. "Your sister, I'm guessing?" she said.

"Dib, who is she?" Gaz demanded, pointing at Tenn.

"Invader Tenn," Tenn introduced herself. She stood and leapt out of the cockpit, then approached and held out her right hand in greeting. Gaz shirked back, heavily-mascaraed eyes narrowed into points. "Invader by title, anyway, not by choice."

"I don't trust Irkens," Gaz spat. "All they do is make things horrible."

"Most of us, yes," Tenn agreed, dropping her hand, obviously realizing her attempts at friendliness were useless right now. "I personally hate the Tallest and pretty much everyone who listens to them."

"That's what they all say," Gaz muttered.

"Gaz, please," I tried, "give her a chance. Trust me, she isn't like Zim or Tak. She's an ally... she helped me out a lot after I lost connection with you. She helped me get back."

"Well..."

"Oh," I said quickly, turning to Tenn. "Where's Nacea?"

Tenn shrugged.

"What?" I barked.

"She said something about wanting to learn more about your planet and took off," said Tenn nonchalantly.

I slapped a hand to my forehead. "I should've told her more about Earth..." I grumbled.

"Another Irken?" Gaz asked rather harshly.

"No, actually," I said, trying to stay calm. "I'll explain in a minute. Right now I've just gotta find her."

"Another girl, huh?" Gaz chided.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I wondered, knowing what she was hinting at but stupidly asking the question all the same. Actually, the fact that Nacea and Tenn were female and the fact that I was an adolescent male had not crossed my mind at all. Maybe it was the alien thing. No, wait, it was definitely the alien thing. Besides, I was too busy for things like that. Girls could wait. And after accidentally falling for Tak once, plus the pain that Gaz was in after her week with Zim, the 'non-human' aspect was probably the biggest turn-off for me one could imagine. So I kept telling myself.

Gaz just shrugged. I rolled my eyes and walked out of the garage. Gaz followed, not surprisingly. I looked up onto the roof first just to see if Nacea had ventured up there, and when I didn't see her I walked out toward the street.

"Nacea!" I called.

"Weird name," Gaz commented.

"Different, yeah, but..." I looked around, getting a little nervous. If Nacea was spotted...

"I believe I have learned a sufficient amount for this," I heard from behind me.

I whirled around and found myself looking at a girl I'd never seen before. "Ack, what the—who are—" I stammered.

"Did I do well?" she asked.

_"Nacea?"_ I yelped, my eyes widening. I'm sure I was gawking, and I couldn't really help it.

Nacea clapped her hands together. "Oh, that must be good!" she exclaimed. "If I have fooled _you,_ then I have done well, correct?"

"Er... s-sure..." I said, running a hand through my hair nervously, trying to calm my racing heart. "Yeah, you... you look great."

Nacea smiled and outstretched her arms, turning a little to either side and admiring her work. Indeed, she somehow had altered her appearance to blend in with the rest of us, but she looked significantly different from any human girl I'd ever encountered. It was clear that she was still a Meekrob: her skin tone was the palest white I'd ever seen, like an unmarked sheet of paper, and her hair was gleaming silver, like her aura back on her home planet; it swirled down around her, almost in the same silhouette as a Meekrob body. Her eyes still had a slight Meekrob shape to them, as they were wider and longer than a normal human's, and were ice blue in color, just as they were moments ago. For clothes, she was wearing a short, white sundress adorned with silver lace trim, an intricate necklace with a pretty silver butterfly-like design, and absolutely nothing on her feet, even though it was cold. As for age... now, I had assumed that Nacea, a scholar, would probably have translated to somewhere between eighteen and twenty-five, like a college student, but she looked instead like she'd fit into middle school, hardly seeming much older than my twelve-year-old sister, and reaching a height still slightly less than five feet.

"Dib, you've gone red," Gaz muttered.

"Wh-what? Oh, haha, have I?" I said, probably sounding pretty stupid; I wasn't doing a very good job at covering up my emotions. Dammit—okay, so Nacea's assumed visage was kinda pretty... but I kept reminding myself: she's an alien. NO. I cleared my throat and tried to get off the subject as soon as possible by asking, "So, is that a hologram?"

"Oh, of course not," Nacea said proudly. "Chairman Xeer had granted me the ability to take on one additional form," she explained, smiling broadly. "I thought I told you! You see?" She poked her left arm. "It is not a hologram!"

"Huh," I remarked. "I didn't know you could do that."

"You will learn much more about me, too!" Nacea smiled. "After all, we will be exchanging infor—"

"Kay, seriously, who is this?" Gaz cut in. "And _what_ are you exchanging?"

"Ah, right. Gaz," I introduced, "this is Nacea, from the planet Meekrob... an ally planet. Nacea, this is my younger sister, Gaz."

"I am so happy to meet you!" Nacea exclaimed, extending a hand. "This is how you do it, correct?" she asked me.

I laughed. "That's right." I nudged my sister a little.

Gaz groaned and shook Nacea's hand. Her eyes widened immediately and she said almost in a whisper, "Your hand is... kinda warm..."

"That is my aura," said Nacea, her eyes softening as the two drew their hands away. "All who possess powers such as mine have a distinct aura."

"Powers," Gaz repeated flatly.

"I shall explain?" Nacea said, turning it into a question when she looked over at me, making sure it was okay to tell Gaz.

"That'd probably be good," I agreed.

"How long are you planning on leaving me in here?" Tenn called from the garage.

"Oh, right!" I remembered, rushing back over to the garage. Gaz and Nacea followed, Gaz keeping a bit of a distance between herself and Nacea. "Uh, let's go inside," I suggested. "Tenn, you're gonna need a hologram," I added as we walked back into the house. "Or, something. I assume you can do holograms?"

"Now why would you assume that?"

"Well, Tak could, and I was just thinking most Irkens could... I mean your PAKs are—"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Tenn said, sounding bored. "I'll come up with something. Give me a minute, why don't you?"

"All right, all right," I sighed.

– – –

Dad didn't come home that night, which I should have anticipated, but it really bothered me that I'd been gone for three months. Meekrob clearly was on another star system, so that factored into it, but still, I was angry. Tenn tried to convince me it was no big deal, but she didn't understand the family issue quite yet, so I kept it to myself after that.

Tenn decided on a hologram later that night after flipping through TV channels and watching some runway TV spot. Her hologram turned out pretty tall (taller than I was at that point, anyway, probably by about five inches), and she passed very convincingly as an African-American girl of about eighteen or so. Like the model she based herself on, Tenn in hologram had short, black hair, highlighted blonde toward the tips, and she had blue eyes (which I later realized was something standard for all Irken disguises... some shade of blue). Unlike the model, who had been cloaked in some winter fashion coat or something, Tenn settled on something more simple: a striped red shirt that hugged her frame, and denim-looking capris, completed by flat tennis shoes. I didn't think to correct her on her choice of attire, since the temperature was dropping outside (and Nacea, too, I realized, had chosen something less than ideal). Oddly enough, Tenn—in hologram—distracted my attention, too. Again, I had to remind myself: _alien._ Not human. I couldn't let hormones do the talking. Just _ignore_ the fact that she's pretty, I had to tell myself, and focus on talking to Gaz and getting things done. For Earth.

I knew it would take a while for Gaz—who kept on making snide remarks about both of my traveling companions to me—to get used to those two, and as much as I didn't want to force acceptance on my sister, Tenn and Nacea, for the time being, had nowhere else to go. So we were all pretty much stuck, metaphorically speaking.

– – –

I didn't have to wonder for long how Nacea and Tenn planned to actually sustain themselves on Earth. Nacea's human visage was apparently created through some form of shapeshifting, so she was able to sleep, and eat our food, and use the shower (which, thank God, was something similar to a Meekrob ritual, as she had told me back on her own planet, and I therefore did not have to go about the embarrassing task of teaching her what to do). Tenn, even though apparently she had some issues with the current Irken regime, didn't go that far (nor did I know if she could), and just used the same kind of solidified holographic projection that Tak had during the Incident. Therefore, she, unlike Zim during the aforementioned time and unlike Nacea now, could not eat anything from Earth without having horrible allergic reactions to it.

I caught up with her the day after I'd come home (before Gaz woke up, since I knew that Tenn, unable to sleep, would be around and alert) in the garage, where she'd offered to take a further look at my ship to make sure everything was still running all right. "Hey, Tenn?" I started off in greeting.

She peeked around from the back of the Runner, then instantly shifted into her hologram, which was an action that occurred so quickly I couldn't begin to fathom how an Irken could actually pull that kind of amazing deception off. "What's up?" she wondered, walking around and leaning against the side of the ship, thin arms folded. I was wearing a coat, but Tenn was still 'wearing' short sleeves, showing that she was fully unaffected by the weather. I'd definitely coach her on that later, I made a mental note. It would start snowing soon, after all. Another mental note: water to Irkens=bad. Though she based herself on a model, her sense of fashion was more simple and tomboyish, which I appreciated. Plus, it would have looked weird if we seemed to have someone as fashionable as a model in our home. Probably weirder than if it came out that Tenn was an Irken. That's just the kind of life I had.

Not allowing myself to get caught up in her looks (dammit, dammit, _dammit,_ adolescence sucks!), I continued right into posing my series of questions. "Are you doing okay so far?" I began, going for a simple start.

Tenn shrugged. "Haven't seen much of your planet other than where you live, but, yeah, it's fine," she answered.

"Were you out here all night?" I had to ask.

"Yeah, your sister told me to stay out here, since your, uh, father—is that right?—might come back," Tenn said. Dammit, Gaz! "But that's fine, I tuned up your ship."

"Oh, uh, thanks," I said, venturing further into the garage, leaning back against the ship so I could talk to Tenn in a more face-to-face way. Of course, she was taller than I was, so it was still a little awkward. "Listen, don't let Gaz push you around, okay? She doesn't take well to new people, especially, uh... Irkens, and... you know. Well, maybe you don't but..." I sighed. "Anyway. If she tells you anything else, check with me to validate it first, okay?"

"Sure," said Tenn, unaffected.

"No, really. I don't want her making your time here uncomfortable."

"I don't know what else to expect," Tenn admitted, her expression unchanging but polite. "She's still a lot nicer than a lot of Irkens." Finally, some emotion (or what have you) came through, and she frowned, looking away. "Especially those two."

"The Tallest?" I guessed, remembering her complain about them before.

"Ugh, yeah. Who else?" She smacked the side of the ship lightly out of frustration, then leaned back against it again, and stared off, looking forward at nothing. "Good-for-nothings."

"Um, what, exactly, is your beef with the Tallest, anyway?" I wondered.

Tenn looked down at me. "What's beef?" she asked.

Oh, hell, fuck and dammit, I did not want to have to explain slang. "Um, well, actually, technically, it's meat from a cow, but—"

"What's a cow?"

"It's a big animal with horns that stares at grass all day, I don't know!"

"What does that have to do with the Tallest?"

"You know, it doesn't. I'll ask you about that later. Anyway, speaking of food, can you get by?" I finally asked, telling myself I'd just make her read a dictionary later. Or watch television or something. Zim sure seemed to learn enough from that. "I mean, I think I warned you, but Irken systems can't handle food we make here on Earth, so..."

Tenn grinned. "I'm good," she said, almost haughtily.

"Wait, what, really?"

"Sure," she shrugged, walking around to the ship's trunk and opening it. "Remember? I stashed a bunch of stuff back here before we took off. I didn't think you'd mind."

I walked around to stand beside her and peered in at the thousand-year smorgasboard of carry-on meals and snacks she'd somehow managed to bring along, and had to laugh. I remembered that she had stocked up, sure, but this could feed an army. Ooooohhhh, bad thought. It was actually easy to set aside the notion that Tenn would try to harbor other Irken fugitives, oddly enough. She was exceptionally individual, and took care of herself well. But it seemed that she was like the other Irkens, even the Tallest she so despised, in her love of food. Irkens, so I was able to gather, all have either rampant appetites, or just like and are able to eat and snack a lot. I figured it may have had something to do with powering their PAKs, eating about three times what a human has to on any given day. I had, now that I recalled Tenn's help, found the food to be a little more filling than what I was used to... but I'd still been hungry then, anyway; I'd been without food for days at the time, after all.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing. I'm glad you're all set. Here, grab something for yourself and come on inside," I offered. "Gaz and I are having breakfast soon... oh, Nacea too, I guess... so maybe we can all talk then."

I did not mention that this was the first time four people would have been sitting around our kitchen table in several years. Even though one of them was Meekrob and the other Irken. That didn't really matter. I'd take 'family' where I could find it.

It really wasn't the best life, mine, I had to admit. Dad had ignored me since I was four, because Mom had disappeared without a trace; my sister kept to herself, surrounded by the Gothic and macabre; I tried and failed, tried and failed, had no real friends from school, and found my place among the supernatural with the Swollen Eyeball Network. Everything was fractured, and that was all I'd ever known.

So, getting down to it, I liked Tenn and Nacea. Sure, they weren't human, but they were real, and I could talk to them, and they wouldn't ignore me. That alone felt pretty good. Yes, the fact that they were female and I was a teenager kind of made things a little awkward, but, again, I honestly didn't want to have to concern myself with that yet. (To be truthful, I was also scared of starting up a relationship with anyone. I mean, look at what happened to my father.) Still. Having them around was nice. It was also a little weird that I was liking the company of an Irken so much, but Tenn really was different.

Of course, my deepest subconscious scolded me. I couldn't deny that there had been something 'different' about Zim, too. I couldn't erase the impression he'd left with my sister, and I couldn't, as much as I wanted to, negate the fact that I had, for a short period of time, thought of him as a friend. Oh, well. For now I'd take what I had and worry about the rest later. I'd take sanity and structure where and while I could.

– – –


	13. Thoughts: Those Two

– – –

**Author's Note:**

_Invader Zim_ is -c- Jhonen Vasquez! Only the events of this story (and the character tweaking, heh) are mine. :3

~Jizena~

– – –

_Gaz's Records_

As much as I wanted them to leave, they didn't. Nacea and Tenn. They didn't leave, and Dad didn't come home. I disliked having Nacea and Tenn around, and that just made other things aggravate me. First of all... being _three months_ apart from my brother almost made my world shatter, and on top of that, he hadn't recovered _any_ information about Zim. At all! (Plus, and this could just have been due to my own negligence, he never did give me the rest of the money he'd promised, but that wasn't particularly irking me.)

The two of them tried to get on my good side a couple of times, but I only really wanted them to leave me, and especially Dib, alone. Sure, they were nice enough, but I did not want them around. In a selfish way, I simply wanted to be with my brother alone. Family was family. We had to stick together. No more outsiders. No more stupid aliens.

I kept on recalling things that Zim had said to me during the Incident. About wanting to be with me, about wanting to protect me, about wanting to become human again. I wanted more than anything for those words to be true, especially now that Dib had his hands full with trying to keep contact with the planet Meekrob, and with making his 'companions' feel comfortable. Now, when I needed his protection the most, he was preoccupied with trying to get those girls adjusted to Earth, and blah, blah, _blah._

It really ticked me off.

– – –

One day, late in the afternoon, Tenn, in her newly renovated hologram, asked me what she was doing wrong. "Honestly, Gaz, I don't want you to hate me," she said, her false blue eyes meeting mine for a brief moment.

"I don't hate you," I told her scornfully, "I just don't understand why my brother felt it _necessary_ to—"

"I understand," she shrugged, "but could you at _least, _you know, talk to us? It'd be cool to get to know you, that's all."

"Nobody's making me talk to anyone," I grumbled. I sighed and just glared at Tenn.

Something else irritated me about Nacea and Tenn. They weren't human... and yet their human _guises_ were perfect. Model perfect. Tenn with her dark skin and gorgeous hair; Nacea even paler than _I_ was... and those weird blue eyes that got Dib all trapped up in conversation with her. I could easily say that I hated Nacea over Tenn. Everything about Nacea was just so pristine and adorable, and I couldn't stand it.

And when I confronted my brother about it, he'd usually say more or less the same thing every time. "Look," he said once, "I know you'd probably feel better if they left you alone, but as long as they're going to be here, could you _please_ make an effort to be... y'know, pleasant? I get that you hate Irkens, so do I—aside from Tenn—but she and Nacea aren't here to jeapordize anything. Could you maybe, possibly talk to them? It's not like they're evil..."

"Dib, seriously, that's asking a lot."

His eyes narrowed. "You'd make an exception for Zim."

"Don't!" I screamed at him. "You have no right to say that!"

Recoiling, my brother sighed. "I'm sorry," he apologized. "But really... even I welcomed Zim into our home once as a guest. All I'm asking is you do the same for Nacea and Tenn."

I realized then that it was unavoidable. The two were staying, and I wasn't making anything easier for myself by being constantly angry. "Fine," I gave in. "I'll loosen up. A little. Just not today."

– – –

The next day, I went back to doing religiously what I had done before Dib left: I started marking off my calendar again. I told myself that I'd live out each day until I turned thirteen, and now that wasn't very far away. My birthday falls at the end of April, and at this point it was nearing November. To me, it hardly seemed far away at all.

"I'll see him again..." I kept telling myself. "I _will_ see him again..."

Dib had promised me he would let me know if and when he heard anything about Zim. More and more now I was longing to know where he was, and what he was doing.

Was he trying to become human again, as he said he wanted to? He hadn't given up, had he?

I wasn't sure anymore if what I felt for him was definitely love, but I accepted the fact that he had said he loved me. I was sure, when I opened the box... when I met him again... that I would have an answer. I hoped to God that I really would.

– – –

– – –

**Author's Note:**

I want to close today's update with an ENORMOUS THANK-YOU! I'm getting so many wonderful reviews, and _IZMS_ has been favorited by so many… I'm really touched and grateful for the reception so far! This community is very supportive, and now that my move has finally settled, I want to be much more active around here, too. :3 Iiiiiiiit's my birthday this weekend, so I am going to celebrate by doing a second update on **Sunday, May 29****th****!**

Things are really getting set in motion in _Changes,_ now… prepare for the rest of the big update on Sunday, which will mark part 1 about halfway through! (The story really picks up after today's chapters, I'm excited to share the rest!) That update will be the earlier promised 'fun,' mentioned last week... because it's one of my favorite parts, I'm expanding that part of the update ever so slightly, hence the tiny delay~.

Again, thank you all so much for the support you have shown me and this story. ^^ I will be responding to reviews very soon~~

~Jizena~

– – –


	14. Meekrob 4: Energy

– – –

**Author's Note:**

_Invader Zim_ is -c- Jhonen Vasquez! Only the events of this story (and the character tweaking, heh) are mine. :3

~Jizena~

– – –

_Dib's Records_

Our little 'information exchange' deal went over well. Almost too well, really. Again... the Meekrob are exceptionally kind, and appreciated even the tiniest details about life on Earth. Nacea would communicate directly with her Chairman via some form of meditation. I would catch her in a pool of moonlight—she always did it at night—in either her true or her assumed form, with her arms outstretched and her eyes closed. Her aura would rise and fall, and a few minutes later, she'd have completed the ritual. It went on like that for a few days. Sometimes she would tell me what she was reporting, sometimes not. It didn't matter to me, as long as I was careful not to expose any weaknesses our planet had, or anything like that. I liked the Meekrob, anyway, and figured we humans could use all the help we could get, even if it was from a nonviolent species.

I didn't have to wonder what kind of 'information' I'd get in return for long. After one of her meditation sessions, Nacea approached me and Tenn, both of them in human guise, and took us out onto my patio to share her moonlight. "This is very exciting, indeed!" she exclaimed. Her tone had become more and more expressive, the longer she stayed on Earth, but the fact that she actually had facial expressions now helped that a great deal. Tenn looked usually ambivalent, until Nacea, almost glowing again, announced her news. "My leader, our Chairman Xeer, has chosen the finest of gifts to share with you, our Ambassadors. This is a message from him," the Meekrob said, looking up at each of us individually. "We appreciate your cooperation, and your hospitality toward one of our own. It is an honor that I grant you our society's greatest secret." She then turned completely to Tenn. "Please, abandon your hologram, if you will," she requested.

Tenn glanced down at me for the go-ahead, since really I was the one being nervous about her and Nacea exposing themselves all the time. I shrugged to show that I wasn't in control this time, and Tenn did as she'd been asked. One of these days, I knew that Tenn was bound to get bored, and want to do things more than just sit around and collect information. She was the utter opposite of Zim that way. "What's going on?" she wondered.

Nacea smiled, utterly pleased with her news from home. "I am to share with the two of you our Meekrob ability to manipulate energy to will," she told us, her voice calm but bursting with delight. My heart started pounding. Maybe Zim's illusion-world he'd constructed hadn't been far off from the truth to my future, after all. I, Dib Membrane, merely thirteen years old, was about to be given the secret to Meekrob elemental powers.

Life seemed pretty damn great all of a sudden.

"It will be an ability that may be used to your advantage," Nacea went on, taking a few steps toward us before discarding her own hologram. Hovering in front of us, almost one with the moonlight, she extended her hands, tiny palms facing upward. She blinked slowly, once, and then I was lured in by that strange Meekrob energy again. "Please, each of you, take my hands," she instructed. "As Ambassadors, you, Dib, and you, Tenn, shall be given this ability in order to communicate directly with my home, should you ever feel the need. This ability will serve, as well, in hastening any healing process in yourself or others, and give you the means by which you may change and shape energy to your liking, be it for self-defense or for a glimmer of light when you find yourselves in the dark."

"No offense, Nacea," said Tenn, "but we Irkens can kinda do most of that already..."

"You simply must trust me, Tenn," Nacea said, which was the closest thing I ever heard to an argument from her. "Please, you must not underestimate our knowledge."

Tenn glanced at me. I probably looked way too eager, because I heard her choke on a laugh. "Fine," she gave in, "just as long as it doesn't mess up my PAK at all."

"It will not," Nacea promised, "I assure you."

"And it's safe?" I guessed.

"Safer than the air you breathe," said Nacea kindly. Given all the pollution and crap that probably filtered the air out to the suburbs from the city, she was probably right, even if she didn't mean to be obvious. "Please, take my hands, and I will teach you the universe."

With a lead-in like that, it had to be good.

Simultaneously, Tenn and I placed our hands on Nacea's upturned palms. Nacea closed her eyes, and I felt mine close at the same time. My breathing slowed, and a heat began radiating between my palm and the Meekrob's comparatively miniscule one. After a mere few seconds, the heat pulsed through my body, and my closed eyes saw a flash of white, then silver light. I felt hot, and then cold, and then simply content. Other than a bit of lightheadedness, I barely felt anything, whereas I had been gearing up to have some kind of otherworldly experience, or an electric jolt or something. What I did experience, though, was much better. As my eyes opened of their own volition again, I felt more aware than I ever had. Aware not in the generally inquisitive sense, but aware in the knowledge of my impact on everything around me, and the much more profound impact the rest of the world had on me, from the ground beneath my feet to the other city inhabitants, and far beyond.

I drew in a deep, sweet breath, and only then noticed that Nacea had donned her human guise again; I wondered if it was only in order for her to show, in a manner I could more easily understand, how happy—and seemingly proud—she was that I had accepted her gift. She wore a bright, beautiful smile, and I realized that, for the first time, I could see her Meekrob aura very apparently, even in her human form. Tenn, too, I noticed when I looked over to see how she was faring with our new ability, had a slight, though much less pronounced filter of light around her. It was like I could read body heat. Tenn's was characteristically Irken: simple, no-nonsense, like it could possibly just be a glow from her PAK. With her, it definitely was more like reading body heat than a soul's aura, which was the feeling I got from Nacea... which made sense, as Irkens are organic bodies with mechanical influence, while Meekrob are entirely energy.

And I could read auras. Oh, hell _yes._

I thanked Nacea, and wished my thanks to her Chairman, as well. Eager to learn the extent of these abilities, I asked Nacea about possibly training with her to learn exactly what it was I could now do. I was so excited about it, I almost forgot about everything else in my life. Nacea smiled, and set our first session for the following evening.

Life really was taking unexpected turns, and was indeed, as Nacea had earlier noted, changing. This, I realized, could be the catylist to really set that change in motion.

– – –

"Channel your energy," Nacea instructed me. We were outside on the patio again, having cleared the table and chairs away, and she was trying to help me control and understand the powers she had given me. Tenn sat nearby, observing this round, since Nacea had agreed to train both of us, but only one-on-one. We could sit in on each other's sessions, but the abilities worked differently for the individual, so it was nearly impossible for Nacea to coach us both at once. I tried to copy the Meekrob's stance: back straight, palms flat and pressed against one another, close to my chest. I felt ridiculous doing so, mainly because I felt like I was praying, and I hadn't been brought up to formally pray like that at all. (Mom used to say things like, "Make sure you're thankful for your life," and so on, but it was nothing formal.)

"Like this?" I wondered, looking over at Nacea to make sure I had the stance right.

She laughed. "You need not copy me," she said. "Simply stand in a manner that makes you comfortable and able to feel the universe around you."

I dropped my hands with a sigh and spread my feet apart a little bit. "The whole universe?" I asked skeptically.

"Close your eyes, Dib," Nacea smiled. I glanced down and noticed she still wore no shoes, even though there was now frost on the ground. Laughing a bit to myself, I looked away, my head tilted downward, then closed my eyes as instructed and took in a deep breath.

"All right," said Nacea, drawing in a deep breath herself as she spoke. "What do you feel?"

"Actually, I'm freezing," I admitted. "Can't we do this inside?"

"Certainly not! Your energy will keep you warm. What do you hear?"

I told her: the usual sounds of the city, a siren in the distance, some trees rustling, birds squabbling over something, neighbors arguing. The faint sound of my sister's guitar coming out from her window. Usually I couldn't hear that among all the other noise, so trained were my ears to drown out music with the din of the city.

"No, no. Do not listen," Nacea said. "What do you _hear,_ without listening?"

_What a weird question,_ I thought. But if Nacea could channel energy with just a thought, it seemed, then she must have been on to something. So I let go and just listened to my thoughts. I didn't really have many at that point, even though I had so many worries: Did Gaz hate me now? Where was Dad? Why would he never talk to me—never address me, his own son, by name? Was Zim about to attack? What else had happened in those three months I'd been gone? Why, at thirteen years old, did I still feel so vulnerable?

Nacea must have sensed that I was tense, for suddenly her hands were on my shoulders. As a 'human,' Nacea stood at about 4'11", so she was six inches shorter than I was, but she was still able to calm me with that action. "You are too stressed," she told me. "Do not think. Just _hear._ What do you hear?"

Finally, I was able to relax. I didn't listen to anything, I didn't think about anything. I saw nothing, since I let go of my thoughts... no colors, nothing.

"Nothing," I answered. "Nothing I can understand, anyway."

"That is the universe."

– – –

Nacea trained me twice a day from that point on. At first the powers kind of scared me, but the Meekrob are a very trusting, peaceful race, so I knew the energy I was using was pure and of my own design, I suppose I could say. Sometimes, if I got stuck, Nacea would lend me a little extra energy. Usually when that happened, I would get _very_ nervous, since I didn't quite know just how I felt about Nacea yet.

We were close, but I just didn't know if I _liked_ her or not yet. I mean I liked her, but just as a good friend. Whether or not we'd ever get further than that was something I couldn't tell. Gaz seemed pretty against it, so for her sake I didn't explore it.

Besides, I had other things to worry about. Like what Zim was up to. He couldn't have just given up and left Earth for good. Could he? Then again, why did I still care? The fact that I'd been gone for three months and he hadn't made a move meant it was over. Right? He must have been gone. He must have given up.

So I thought.

– – –


	15. Partnership 4: Invader Skutch

– – –

**Author's Note:**

_Invader Zim_ is -c- Jhonen Vasquez! Only the events of this story (and the character tweaking, heh) are mine. :3

~Jizena~

– – –

_Zim's Records_

"Hey, Skutch!" I called out, attempting familiarity. I had once again decided to take lunch in one of the Invader lounges. I had gone back to the first one I'd visited a couple more times, and came to the conclusion that Skutch no longer frequented that one, since he really wanted to avoid me for some reason. Invader Skutch was, as even Larb and Zee (who I had seen and spoken to, of nothing much of consequence, a few other times, even just in passing in the halls) expressed, very hard to get along with, since he was a self-starter to the point that he got annoying about it. And once he'd gotten what he wanted, he just aimed to climb higher.

Huh. That sounded stupidly familiar. Familiar enough for me to want to talk to Skutch just in hopes of rekindling _that_ version of myself again. It was strange, how much my mind was jumping around lately. I had never felt so multidimensional. Everything had always been cut and dry. Now I could easily lay out my life in chapters. I had a very long chapter of lunacy, idiocy, spanning back years and leading up to and beyond Operation Impending Doom I. I'd been labeled criminally insane and banished. My banishment had lasted a very short time, and I returned to the Armada of my own volition, not finding anything wrong in my rampant wrongdoings. My overwhelming stupidity had guided me down to Earth for OID II, and the chapter of my being a lie of an Invader had lasted a few blissful years. Then had come the conscience. I counted that week a chapter of its own. And now here I was writing out newer tomes, not sure where I was heading. And then, of course, there were the blank pages. The missing sixty years I was only given flashes of thanks to Tak's handiwork with the dagger.

In that way, I felt, there were three of me. The me I had been during that lost time, the self I was afterward, up until the Time Warp, and then the person I was now. Struggling with a latent want to still be human, while at the same time knowing it was hopeless and attempting to fit back into the Empire.

Now, Skutch was insane in his own right, but he wasn't dumb. He was a keen soldier and most likely had a wealth of information on Tak that I just had to unearth. Even if his knowledge of Tak was loose, he at least knew more about Tavis and the like than I did. The Invader did not, however, want anything to do with me, at all. As was apparent that day in the lunchroom.

"How the shit did you find me?" he hissed at me when I approached.

"Find you? I just happened to see you," I lied, "and—"

"You're so full of crap, Zim," Skutch muttered. "You've been stalking me."

"Ah, but at least now I have your _attention, _so—"

"Leave me alone."

He pushed past me, but I refused to give up. "Look," I said, following along behind him, "I know I'm not the best person to be around, but I could make it worth your while if you'd just cooperate with me. Please, Skutch? Just this one time? Come on. Come _on..._ you know you want to, just a _liiiitle_ conversation, just—"

"SHUT UP!" Skutch hollered. "Here," he added, spinning me around so that I was face-to-face with another, shorter Irken, "talk to this guy for a while. Annoy the fuck outta _him."_

I recognized the other right away. The shortest, and fattest, member of the Tallests' team of Invaders, the conquerer of planet Blorch, was not high on anyone's list, though he did get things done. Either way, he was never pleasant company. Invader Skoodge. I'd used him before to get what I wanted, but he was a nuisance to be around. Plus, one could squash that guy like a bug, and he just would not die. "But I hate Skoodge," I protested.

"Too bad," Skutch growled, and stormed away.

"But—"

"Hi, Zim!" Skoodge announced, his nasally voice grating into my core. My teeth gnashed on their own, and I glowered down at him. "How's it goin'?"

"Skoodge, why are you even here?" I demanded.

"On the _Massive?_ Well, I figure if I hang around the Tallest long enough, they'll give me another chance."

"Haven't they given you like, five, and tried to kill you each time?"

Skoodge laughed feebly. "One of these days, I'll get another mission," he said, stupidly and stubbornly.

The truth was, I had to be grateful for Skoodge. He was the one Invader around more hated than I was, because he was a thorn in everyone's side. A part of me, now that I was speaking to Skoodge for the first time while under the influence of a latent concsience, wondered if someday Skoodge might snap. If he could prove to be a threat from years of hate and neglect thrust upon him. Then again, he was _Skoodge._ He was an idiot. A parasite. I didn't think I had to worry.

"Yeeeah, okay," I dismissed, backing away. "Look, Skoodge, I gotta catch up with Skutch again, so..."

"Man, that Invader Skutch is something, huh?" Skoodge mused, stepping after me. "He's real good with weapons. Have you ever seen him fight? He's like the old Elite, y'know."

"Yeah, great."

"So I get why he's jealous of your mission."

"Sure, Skoodge, bu—" I cut myself off. Oh. Oh, I liked this. This had better be true. "Did you say... jealous?"

Skoodge shrugged. "Don't you think?" he said. "It's cuz you've got a private lab and all, and get to work right here on the _Massive._ I mean, hey, everyone's jealous."

I smirked, feeling indeed a rekindling of the steadfast Invader I had been for so long. "Really?" I said. "Now that's interesting."

A much as I hated Skoodge, I thanked him for that tidbit, and went chasing after Skutch. I usually hated using the logging system in my PAK, which allowed me to pinpoint any other PAK within a certain radius, but I was desperate. Activating the scanner, I set the homing device on Skutch's frequency, and caught up to him in record time. He was fittingly on the observation deck on which I had first been given my little spy mission by Tallest Purple, and the look on his face was one of pure disinterest once he noticed me coming.

"For crying out loud," he shouted, "you _are_ stalking me! You stupid—"

"And why am I stupid, Skutch?" I grinned, walking right up to him. "Why would you go out of your way to insult me?"

"Would you _leave?_ I'm _working."_

"Oh. Sure," I said, playing innocent. "I have things to do in my private lab anyway." I turned to leave, paused for effect, then asked him, "Wait... Skutch, you can't be _jealous?_ Are you? I mean, I _do_ have my own lab and all, but—"

"Why are they favoring you?" he finally snapped. Before I could turn, Skutch rushed up behind me and spun me around to face him. He dug his fingers into my shoulders and forced eye contact in a stone-cold red-eyed glare. "You were sent away as a joke, Zim. Why are the Tallest favoring you? Why are they giving you what they want?"

"Honestly, I've been wondering that, too," I admitted, "but I'll share a little secret with you, if you agree to tell me a couple things I'd like to know."

Skutch growled in the back of his throat, then let go of me, stood back, and folded his arms, struggling with himself for only a moment. "Fine," he muttered, "but you'd better not cheat me."

"Oh, no," I said, finding myself grinning again. "Look, I believe my mission here, and my partnership, all has to do with keeping more of an eye on Tak. The Invasion will go ahead as planned, but Tak, as you have all more or less confirmed for me, is kind of underhanded. If there's anything else you know, I need to hear it, so I can use it."

"What's in it for me?" Skutch wondered. "If I tell you anything?"

"I'll form a second alliance," I made up quickly. "I'll let you in on the Invasion of Earth. It's a prime place, Skutch, you'll see."

Skutch glanced around, snorted, then asked, "What do you need to know?"

"I need to know everything you've ever learned about Tavis."

– – –

Skutch and I met in secret after that. For only minutes at a time, he would share minor things he knew, which I never even repeated to GIR. On the outside, I went along obediently with Tak. I acted like I had seen the light around her, and went with her ideas, therefore making the partnership look and feel more believable.

But behind her back, I continued my own research, every now and then repeating something to Tallest Purple. The mineral Tavis was becoming more and more an obsession to me, especially on the day Skutch finally dug up an image file of a block of the stuff.

Because I was beyond certain I had seen it before. And very, very recently.

– – –


	16. Swollen Eyeball 1: No More Secrecy

– – –

**Author's Note:**

_Invader Zim_ is -c- Jhonen Vasquez! Only the events of this story (and the character tweaking, heh) are mine. :3

~Jizena~

– – –

_Dib's Records_

I had finally decided to finish filing up all my old reports concerning Zim, about to hand them in to the Senior Agents on the Swollen Eyeball Organization's Board, when my assumptions about his disinterest in Earth were debunked altogether.

"Hello, Dib," I heard a familiar voice say from behind me. I was in my room, tucking my laptop into a bag so I could leave and do my work in the town library. I turned around, and, just as I'd suspected, I saw the image of my arch rival on my desktop computer's screen. "It's been a while."

"You Irken asshole," I spat. "What the hell have you been up to?" I demanded, then found myself on a tangent I hadn't expected to come out of me. "Do you have any idea what sort of a state my sister is in now? And all because of _you!"_

Zim narrowed his eyes and snarled, "Don't change the subject, human. I'm here to tell you something I thought might interest you."

"I didn't change the subject!" I refuted. "You never—"

"I thought it might interest you to know," Zim interrupted, "that I have a partner now."

"Great," I said, rolling my eyes. "Another one? Don't you have your hands full with the two malfunctioning partners you already have?"

"Funny," scoffed Zim. "On the contrary, my new partner is..."

"Me," another familiar voice said. The image changed, and now Tak appeared on the screen. Oh, this was not good. This was _not good._ Especially in terms of what to tell Gaz. Especially in terms of the safety of my planet. Partners? Fuck.

"What the—" I stammered. "TAK? Are you _serious?_ Why the _hell_ are you two joining forces? I thought you hated each other!"

"True, but we equally despise you humans," Tak purred. "Enjoy your last few months on your precious planet, Dib!"

"Listen _here,"_ I snapped. "I have something to tell you as well!"

"Enlighten us," Tak said unfathomably.

"Hey, Zim! Remember that stupid ordeal we went through a while ago, back when you made me believe that I was visited by the Meekrob?"

The view switched back to Zim. "Yes. So?"

"So, I've really come in contact with them now." Zim choked, and stumbled back. "The entire _planet _can relate to what you did here. They all believe me and are backing me up." I smirked. "It's over. This time, it's really over."

"I don't think so, Dib," Zim sneered. "You see... this isn't just an Invasion anymore. It's _war."_

"What?"

"You heard him!" Tak laughed. "The Irken Empire is going to declare war on Earth sooner than I am sure you would like to believe! And _we're_ launching the first attack!"

"Dib, who are you talking to?" Nacea wondered, walking into my room.

"A couple of _disgusting_ Irkens who I'll deal with _later,"_ I spat. "Zim! This isn't over between us! It's still personal, no matter _how_ big this war gets! I'm going to make you pay for what you've done to my sister!"

With that, I turned off my computer. For a second, I stood there, glaring at the blank black screen. After another thought, I unplugged the computer, as well. And then I instantly started hating myself. I'd gotten sidetracked. The one time I hadn't been obsessively checking up on Zim's every move, he goes and makes a deal with the devil. Quite literally. It seemed clear, from the computers and wires in their background, that Zim and Tak were not operating from Earth. They were with their Empire. I had been right that he had left... I had been wrong not to follow up on that.

My only hope on Earth now was the Swollen Eyeball. Sure, I could get the Meekrob to help out, to plan some kind of defense, but I did need more than a race of peaceful shaman-like creatures to stand up to the Irkens. Tenn could be the face of what Irkens _should _be to humans, and maybe even attest to the tyrrany of the current Tallest. If she'd come on board like that, of course. But the first step was definitely the Network. The SEN, or the SEO (for Organization) as we usually called it, was a local institution with sister branches throughout the world. The Organization was young (established only in the 1980s), but widespread, and full of investigators—we called ourselves Agents—who cared enough to uncover the truth behind legends, and fend off supernatural threats.

The only problem was, I'd always been the youngest member. They had never seemed to fully believe me.

"Dib, you are upset..." Nacea said, looking concerned.

"I'll be alright," I said, walking up to her. "How's everything working out for you? Getting more used to things here?"

Nacea beamed, clapping her hands together once. "I adore it here!" she exclaimed. "You have really been so kind to me and Tenn, Dib. You are the kindest person I know."

I felt myself go red. "That... that's nice of you..." I managed to say, tugging at my collar as I did so. I knew full well why I felt so nervous around Nacea, but for the time being, I did not want to accept it.

For Gaz's sake, I _wouldn't_ accept it. _Besides,_ I kept telling myself, _Nacea isn't human. After yelling at Gaz time and time again for having feelings for Zim, I can't go and tell her that I've done the same thing and developed feelings toward someone who isn't even human..._

"Are you all right?" Nacea asked me.

"Fine, fine," I covered.

Nacea looked rather concerned. Her clear blue eyes locked with mine, and she took my hands up in hers. "Let me know if anything is troubling you," she insisted, bringing my hands close to her heart. I choked and stopped her before I could even touch the lace trim of her dress. Even so, I could feel her heart beating. "Something _is_ wrong," she observed, her aura exerting a burst of energy. I had worked with her enough to know that energy can be mostly controlled—I had been able to work myself into coaxing orbs of light right in front of me with an upturned palm—but that sometimes it can fill a body too much, and exert itself in such a way that her aura had.

"Not at all!" I shouted, prying myself away from her. "J-just don't... Nacea..." I heaved a sigh, knowing that explaining human emotions to her would be hopeless, and said, "Don't let me touch you." Huh. Just like my sister, I was shirking contact.

"Dib..." Nacea folded her arms. "How else can I teach you how to use the ability I gave you?" she pouted. "Until you know how to use energy on your own to its fullest, we shall share an important bond."

"Important..." I repeated. Rage filled me. I wouldn't let myself give in to any emotion even closely related to love at that moment. "I'll figure it out whenever I feel like it!" I shouted at Nacea. "I just can't get close to you! Not now!"

"But..."

"Before you even think about teaching me anything..." I said more calmly, "please, speak with Gaz a little more. I don't want her to hate you or Tenn. Or me for bringing you here."

"You wish for me to know your sister," Nacea translated, clasping her hands together.

"Yeah. Plus..." I turned away from Nacea, ready to go and have a talk with Gaz myself, "right now, she's the only person that I want to care for."

– – –

I told myself after that ordeal that I'd train more with Nacea later. Zim and Tak's simultaneous return was more than enough for me to worry about now. Heaving a long sigh, I left my room from those conversations and walked rather quickly down the hall to Gaz's room, the door of which was surprisingly open.

So as not to upset her too much at the start, I knocked lightly on the doorframe. When she turned, I asked permission to come in, and she gave it with a shrug. She was sitting on her bed reading—it was a big, old collection of poetry that had belonged to our mother—so I grabbed her computer chair and brought it over so I could sit beside her.

"What're you doing?" she wondered, setting the book down and sitting up a little more. "What's going on?"

"You asked me to tell you the second I heard anything about Zim," I decided on saying, folding my hands together as I bent over my knees.

"Yeah?" She sounded excited. I hated to spoil the moment.

"Well he just called me..."

"And..? Dib, this doesn't sound good from the way you're talking..."

I sighed again. "It isn't," I told her flat out. Gaz recoiled and looked out her window. "Tak was with him." Gaz cringed, but said nothing. "They just declared war."

Still not looking at me, Gaz hugged her knees to her chest and continued staring out at the evening sky. "So they're working together?" she assumed. I confirmed that, and she growled a little, then shut her blinds and turned back to look at me. "Thanks for letting me know," she muttered. "Did he say anything else?"

"No. I, uh, brought you up, but he still didn't say anything," I admitted. My sister looked broken, but she attempted to make herself appear otherwise. She'd become too easy to read, though. I slouched in the chair. I felt terrible, even though I had every reason to flaunt the fact that I was right... that it was too hard for Zim to let go of what he really was.

Gaz snorted. "He's working with Tak now; it figures." She sighed. "Okay, I guess that's all I needed to know. Maybe I have been stupid to wait up for him, or even hope he'd changed."

As weird as it was, I felt sorry for her (I mean, she was my sister and all, but my hatred toward Zim was pretty damn strong), and wished there was more I could say. Finding nothing, I apologized quietly and left Gaz to her thoughts.

When I returned to my own room, I unpacked my laptop. No use closing those files now. I had to let the SEO know about Zim's new plans. As much as they (and everyone else) had ignored me in the past, it was worth a shot. If I said nothing, everyone would be unprepared.

Contacting the SEO was as easy as logging onto a closed, secret site. It was an online Network with no URL... it only existed within the computers of those of us that had joined. I'd been in since I was a kid. I'd presented ghost findings on a regular online forum, and somebody on the forum just happened to be an Agent. The Agent, codename Tunaghost, was still a prominent figure in the Network... a Board member, at that, and I had her to thank for keeping me in the loop all this time. In the absence of a mother, sometimes, when I was younger, I would wish Mom to be much like her.

Once logged into the Network, our computers ran a program to hide our faces in shadows, so I only knew my fellow Agents by silhouette. They were easy enough to differentiate, and I ran in one particular circle, many of whom were Board members and Senior Agents. The SEO Board was the group of Senior Agents (most of whom had been with the Organization since its founding) who made decisions on things like live meetup places, contact with sister organizations, and the dispersement of funds. Many Agents were under-the-table PIs, paid to exorcize houses or investigate odd happenings by prominent figures too embarrassed to admit that they were seeking supernatural help. It happened more often than I knew, at the time. The Board Treasury had built up quite a sum, especially thanks to one of my idols: Agent Darkbootie.

Darkbootie, the President of the Board, was the oldest member of the Organization, and worked several odd jobs around the city, and neighboring towns and states, in order to amass a library of paranormal information. I had met him in person before, and even received his help. Plus, he was one of the only members with as keen an interest in intergalactic activity as I had. He had believed and even filed some of my work on Zim before. It was the rest of the Board I had to convince.

"Agent Mothman," Agent Nessie suddenly addressed me, snapping me out of my thoughts.

"What is it?" I asked, turning to look at my computer screen. Senior Agent Nessie's shadowy figure appeared ominously over my running programs. Nessie was male, and probably short, if his silhouette was any indication. He always appeared to be wearing a lab coat of some kind, which sometimes made me wish he was right under my skeptical Dad's nose at Membrane Labs. "Is this about me leaving for a few months, because I was just about to—"

"Something important has come up, Mothman," Nessie interrupted. He sounded rushed and frantic. "We Senior Agents need you to come down to the Swollen Eyeball Network Headquarters immediately."

"Why me?" I wondered. I had to thank this perfect timing, but the sudden request was alarming. "I'm not a Senior Agent! Why do you need me?"

"No questions," snapped Nessie, "just _come!"_

"Okay, okay, jeesh," I gave in.

"And come alone," Nessie added just before his image faded from my screen.

"Who is 'Mothman?'" Nacea wondered. I turned around to find that she was standing right over me. "Why does your computer call you that?"

"Nacea!" I exclaimed, surprised to see her there. Again. I stood and led her away from the computer area. "Um..." I tried to explain quickly, "you know that organization I told you about?"

"The Swollen Eyeball?" Nacea laughed a little, which was something she did not do often, and tugged at the corners of her eyes. Meekrob, I had deduced, rarely found anything funny. It was just a little unfortunate that the one thing that made Nacea laugh like that had to be the name of the Organization I'd pledged so much of my time to.

"Yes, that, exactly. Well, Mothman is my codename; we all have codenames."

"Shall _I_ call you 'Mothman?'" Nacea wondered.

"No, no," I said, holding a hand up. "You can call me 'Dib,' because we're friends."

"I admit that I am confused," said Nacea.

"I promise I'll explain later, okay?" I interjected before she could continue. "I really have to leave now. Something important has come up... I'll be back soon. Dammit, where's my trench coat?"

"Here," said Tenn, in hologram, who I hadn't seen come in (it must have been after the call, since she wasn't there earlier and I'd been in my room a while). She approached and handed the coat to me. "What's the hurry?"

"I have no idea," I answered honestly, pulling on the trench coat. "You two can go downstairs if you want. You don't have to stay in my room. You both look human... enough," I added, looking at Nacea.

"Oh, have I made an error?" Nacea gasped, looking horrified. "I thought that—"

"You look fine!" I assured her. "Look, you're both fine. I have to go; I'll be right back, I promise. Then we can talk about maybe getting you two into the Network, okay?"

"We will wait for you," said Nacea, a little sadly.

"Just go," Tenn said, waving a hand at the door. "We'll be fine."

I nodded. "See you soon, then."

I took my leave and walked quickly down the stairs, passing my sister in the living room. I was surprised she'd ventured downstairs herself. Maybe she was trying to forget what I'd told her.

"Where do you think _you're_ going?" she asked, not looking up from her handheld GameSlave. Oddly enough, I hadn't even seen her pick up that video game console in a very long time.

"Important meeting," I replied. "No clue what it's about, but I'll be back soon, I hope."

"You and that stupid club," Gaz growled.

"Yeah, uh-huh," I said quickly. "Hey, look, could you do me a favor and try to make Tenn and Nacea feel a little more at home here?"

"They're not _my_ problems. Or girlfriends. Or both. Or whatever."

"Gaz, please..."

"Fine. Whatever."

"Thanks, Gaz!"

She groaned, and I took my leave, wanting to talk to her a little more but knowing that now wasn't the time, going to the garage to start up the Spittle Runner. Nessie told me to come 'immediately,' so I figured boosting my time with the Runner would probably be a good idea.

"They're not my girlfriends," I muttered as I warmed up the Runner. "They're not even human."

_That didn't stop Gaz,_ a voice in my head said. I punched the controls angrily and the Runner took off. I thought back to what I had said to Nacea and Tenn. Get them into the Network. It would be a delicate process, sure, and I'd have to get the entire Organization backing me, too. It was Tenn that would really do the Organization a lot of good. She was Irken. She had Irken information she was willing to share. I just had to convince the others she wasn't a threat, like Zim and Tak.

_Dammit, Zim,_ I thought to myself, _you sure know how to screw things up._

With the Runner, I made it to the Headquarters building in no time. Headquarters was located in a field on the far, far edge of town, beyond a forest so thick nobody really bothered to walk through it to get there. It was the perfect location. Other buildings were sprouting up around Headquarters, as well, since Darkbootie had been planning, for a while, to turn the Organization in to a full-fledged Corporation, to pay Agents for their work in a nonprofit sense, working in secret under a small government contract. Buildings now included labs and observatories, and even dormitories. I leapt out of the Runner and set the controls on autopilot to get the ship back to the house, since I could easily get a ride back home, and I did not want to leave the Runner around outside for an unknown length of time, despite how hidden Headquarters was.

When I walked into the main building, I felt a chill in the air. Something wasn't right. "Hello?" I called out.

"We've been expecting you, Mothman," I heard Senior Agent Tunaghost say. I glanced to my left and found her standing in shadow beside me. Her voice had always comforted me, despite it being a little gruff. It was a matronly comfort, though, since I did have so much to thank her for.

"Tunaghost?"

"You've gotten taller," she observed.

I cleared my throat uncomfortably. She hadn't seen me in person since I was probably eleven or twelve, but my height still made me a little nervous anyway.

"Come on," Tunaghost said, "they're expecting us in the Board room." She started to walk away, and I follwed at a safe distance.

"The entire _Board_ is here?" I asked. Tunaghost nodded. "What happened?" I wondered, getting nervous. "Why do you need _me_ here?"

"These are questions you should be asking the higher-ups," Tunaghost reprimanded. We walked in silence the rest of the way to the Board room, which did not take long, as it was one of the first rooms we came to. The interior was so dim, I could not take in a good idea of the actual layout, but other things were bothering me, so I presently paid it no mind.

The Board room was smaller than I thought it would be, illuminated by five computers and a red lamp, which was angled to keep everyone in shadow. The computer screens' glow allowed me to make out familiar silhouettes. An oval-shaped table sat in the middle of the room, and all around it sat the Senior Agents that served as Board members. The head chair, at the far end of the oval, was empty. Tunaghost motioned for me to sit in the seat directly across from the head chair, then took her own seat near Nessie.

"What's going on?" I asked everyone.

Agent Nessie stood and cleared his throat. "Agent Mothman," he began slowly, "this is a very trying time for us. We're expecting new members from our sister branch in London to arrive in just a few weeks, the planned construction is underway, and now..." he took in a deep breath and said, "a tragedy has occured."

"Tragedy?" I repeated. My heart was pounding.

"Our Board leader," Nessie continued rather painfully, "our Network leader, Agent Darkbootie, was recently in Canada, investigating a Yeti case..."

"And?" I prompted.

"And... there was quite a misfortune." Nessie let out a harsh sigh. "He is no longer with us."

I leapt out of my chair, my heart pounding like crazy. "Darkbootie is _dead?"_ I cried in disbelief, slamming a fist on the table. No. No way. No. "That's impossible! How did this happen?"

"He was, well, mauled by the Yeti he was investigating," Tunaghost explained.

"You don't have to say _mauled,"_ I said, disgusted. "It's horrifying enough as it is."

"Of course, sir," Tunaghost apologized.

My eyes widened and my heart skipped a beat. I choked on my breath, and my world spun, faster and faster, then came to a sudden stop. "Wh-what did you just call me?" I asked shakily.

Senior Agent Cthulhu stood and held up a disc. "Your real name," he demanded in his low, commanding voice. Cthulhu was a large, broad-shouldered beast of a man, whom I'd once suspected to be afflicted with lycanthropy. He had short hair, which was always illuminated green, and jagged facial hair, which always stood out when he appeared in profile, and focused most of his research on the Lovecraft Mythos (hence his codename). I had once heard that he was one of the (apparently several) members who was ex-Army, and I believed it.

"Dib," I replied, still incredibly confused. "My name is Dib Membrane."

Cthulhu sighed. "You're the right one," he said.

"The right one?" I repeated, hearing my voice crack and shake. I was still getting over the shock of hearing about Darkbootie. What did my name have to do with anything? "What do you mean?"

"You are included in our late leader's will," Cthulhu explained, setting the disc down on the table. "It's recorded in here if you don't believe me."

"Me? Really?" I couldn't believe it, despite what he said. "Is it important?"

"It's _very_ important, sir," said Cthulhu.

"What's with this 'sir' business?" I demanded darkly, pounding the table again. "Somebody tell me what's going on!"

"Well, you see, sir," Tunaghost began, "you were left pretty much everything in our late leader's will."

"That meaning..?" I wondered.

"He left you the Network."

I choked again, and my heart momentarily stopped. I clutched my chest, trying to get my heart pumping and my lungs working properly again. I took in a long, shaky breath, then let it out, along with the word, "Impossible..."

Sure, I had had a couple of personal encounters with the late Agent Darkbootie, but nothing other than our shared love of the stars would make us seem at all connected. With several qualified Agents on his Board, it was impossible to believe that the great investigator would leave the Swollen Eyeball to a child.

To me.

"Do you prefer 'Dib' or 'Mothman,' sir?" Tunaghost asked.

"D-Dib for now..." I stammered. I gripped the edge of the table until my fingers were nearly digging into the wood grain. "I don't get it..." I said quietly. "This is insane. I-I'm thirteen! Why would I be left everything? Why not one of you?"

"He mentioned, in his will, something about an Invasion, sir," said Cthulhu.

"Zim..." I muttered angrily. Addressing the Board again, I asked, "It's because of the threat of Invasion that I was... placed in charge? Because of my knowledge of the Irkens?"

"Yes, sir," Nessie answered.

"Could you all stop with the 'sir' stuff for right now?" I barked. "Please, I... I still can't believe this..." I held my head and asked, "He really put me in charge?"

"Yes," said Tunaghost. "You are our leader now, Dib. The Swollen Eyeball is yours to govern, from this day on."

"Oh, my God..." I breathed. "I... I have to sit down..."

I sat and held my head in my hands. Everything was happening so fast. First, I became Ambassador to Meekrob... and now _this. _Sure, I wanted to reach out to the Network, and this was indeed the best way to have them behind me every step of the way, but... to lead it? To make every decision? To be a permanent fixture in the Board?

"I... how am I going to do this?" I wondered out loud. "I still have school, and..."

"If I may, sir—Dib," Tunaghost interjected, correcting herself quickly at the end of the sentence. "It was the will of our late leader that, should you be underage when you rose to the position, which you are, I'm to serve as your spokesperson and advisor when you are in need of assistance. That way, you can continue with school, and I will let you know at the end of each day what you may have missed and what meetings you should attend."

I raised my head to look in her direction. "Thank you," I sighed gratefully. Tunaghost deserved more than just praise. I'd figure out how to properly thank her for being so forward-thinking later. I stood again, forcing myself up slowly. "So this is really it?" I asked. "I'm the Network leader? Not just leader of the Board... but everything?"

"That is correct, sir," Cthulhu replied, sounding only slightly put off. I was really getting irked by everyone calling me 'sir,' but I decided it was unavoidable, so I ignored it.

I cleared my throat and straightened to full height. "I accept," I said decisively. This had to happen. Especially now that I knew Tunaghost would be a constant advisor. This was my chance. This was the only way I could make anything change. This was my only way to stop the Invasion. "I accept my new position as your leader. I only hope I will be a worthy successor to Agent Darkbootie."

All of the Board members stood, and Cthulhu gestured toward the head chair. "Shall we continue with the meeting, sir?" he asked me.

I nodded. The table split apart, and I gulped, then walked the straight path to the head chair. When I turned around, the table resumed its normal shape.

_What am I doing?_ I wondered, feeling, once again, incredibly nervous and overwhelmed. _There must be some mistake!_

I glanced around the table at the numerous Agents, all of whom I now outranked. I closed my eyes and drew in a deep breath, bracing myself. _When I sit down,_ I realized, _I'll officially be accepting the position. I'll actually be the head of the Swollen Eyeball Network._

Opening my eyes again slowly, I addressed the rest of the Board. "You may all be seated." They all did as I ordered. Timidly, I took my seat as well. That was it. That did it.

I was the leader of the Network.

Officially. Until death or resignation, I was the leader.

"First of all," I began, trying to make myself feel comfortable in my new position, "I ask that all of you, if and when you remember to do so, address me by name, not codename."

"Understood," the Board members said almost simultaneously.

I sighed, then glanced around the table again. "Am I free to issue a new policy?" I asked Cthulhu, who sat to my right.

"Anything you want, sir—Dib."

"Fine." I thought about it for a moment, then concentrated on the power that Nacea had given me and gathered energy into my right hand, then, with everything I had, shot it toward the red lamp on the cieling. The light immediately got brighter, and the room was soon perfectly lit. "First off... no more secrecy," I said firmly, keeping my hand illuminated. "Look! If I'm to be your leader, then you need to know me! Everything about me! And that includes this power I've recently been given!"

All of the Board members gaped in awe at my hand, also shying away from the light a little.

I cleared my throat and continued, "A serious threat has arisen, and we need to be prepared for it. We won't get anywhere if we remain shrouded in secrecy all the time. For now, we can keep this among the Board only, but I'll soon address the entire Network." I stood and held out my left hand as well, keeping both hands illuminated with my Meekrob powers. It was draining, but I had to keep it up. "Do you still accept me for what I am?" I asked the Board.

"Yes, sir!" the Board Members replied.

"Your powers will probably come in handy in the future," said Senior Agent Kappa, an older man, a geologist, who sat on the 9:00 mark of the table.

"Especially if there really is a threat of alien invasion," Senior Agent Bloodrose added from her seat beside Cthulhu, her voice dulcet and accented with an alluring Central American flair.

"So..." I went on, "I suppose I should let you all know about the coming Invasion, then."

The Board fell silent, and I sat back down, trying to keep myself relaxed.

"Three years ago," I began, speaking slowly and steadily, "a member of a race known as the Irkens arrived on Earth, bent on conquering it. His name is Invader Zim. I've been trailing Zim since the day he came, thwarting his plans for Invasion and learning more about the Irken race and Operation Impending Doom II... the codename for the forthcoming Invasion.

"It has come to my knowledge that Zim has recently teamed up with another, stronger Irken. Her name is Tak, and I know from experience how much of a threat she can be. Zim has determination and Tak has brains... the two of them together may very well be able to take over the Earth in no time."

The Board members looked panicked, and an uproar soon started.

"I _tried_ to tell you all earlier, but none of you would listen!" I shouted, slamming a fist on the table. "And now, the threat is real! We've waited too long! I've spent the last three years of my life trying to stop the Invasion on my own, sometimes with the help of my sister; we've succeeded in holding Zim back so far, but something recently happened to him that, I believe, will make him even more reckless."

"Wh-what would that be, sir?" Bloodrose wondered. She looked incredibly frightened, as did a great number of the other Senior Agents. It was strange, seeing their faces, and I promised myself that I would memorize them all very soon.

"For a brief period of time," I replied, heaving out a sigh, "he was human."

"How is that even possible?" several outraged Agents exclaimed.

"Calm down, calm down!" I ordered. "Just listen to me. I'll explain everything in due time, but for right now, I'm just giving you the basic facts so you can be prepared.

"A couple years ago," I continued, "Zim's DNA was altered, turning him human. Now that he's Irken again, a part of his human side still remains. He's developed ways to suppress it, making his Irken side even more ruthless. He'll destroy anything in his path. He's gone from being incompetent and easy to read to a next-to-ideal Irken Invader, just in the past two years." _If teaming up with Tak and being back with the Tallest is any indication,_ I added to myself. After all, Zim had appeared more confident. Jerk. "If he continues to get stronger as an Invader, the Earth _will_ be doomed.

"But that's where _we_ come in," I went on. "There are several things we can do to stop him before the Invasion gets out of hand, but we need to start now. That's why I've asked that we dismiss the policy about our identities being a secret. I need to know how to contact all of you at any time. I need to know who to look for. I need to know all of your faces so that I'm sure that, for example, an Invader I don't know manages to work his way in here. Understood?"

"Understood," the Board members replied.

"Agent Disembodied Head... your real name," I demanded of the Senior Agent on the other side of the table.

"Uh... Brakem, sir," the thin, bald Agent answered. His sunglasses glowed in the red light. "Harrison Brakem."

"To my knowledge, you're a part of the Network's fighting force," I noted. "Is this correct, Brakem?"

"Well, yes, sir, but..."

"But what?"

"Our forces aren't very strong," he admitted. The raven, which was a constant companion, on his shoulder bowed its head in agreement and awkward discontent.

"Gather an army," I ordered. "We have to be prepared. Now listen, I have possession of an Irken spacecraft. It's called a Spittle Runner. You'll learn all these terms soon enough, I assure you. In any case, I recently took the Runner out of orbit and discovered another planet being threatened by the Irken Empire... planet Meekrob. There, I met an Irken who's on _our_ side. She can help us out in discovering more about the Irken Empire and Operation Impending Doom II."

"This is... incredibly serious... isn't it, sir?" Tunaghost asked.

"More so than you could imagine," I told her.

"God..."

"Listen," I said to the Board. "This _can_ be stopped, but we really need to focus! We can continue research on other things as well, but we _need_ to make this our priority. I'll fill you in even more when I..." I gulped and continued, "when I announce to the rest of the Network that I've..."

"Accepted your position as leader?" Tunaghost prompted.

I sighed. "Exactly."

"If you are uncomfortable, sir, I shall escort you out," offered Tunaghost. "We can continue at a later time."

I looked around the table, then said, "All right. When should we continue?"

"That's... entirely up to you, sir."

"Oh." My heart started pounding against my chest. I was so nervous still. "In... in three days, I'll make the announcement to the rest of the Network. The London branch members are coming in a few weeks, right?"

"That's correct, sir," Nessie confirmed.

"Okay, then," I said. "After my announcement, we can have further meetings. Then, we can recruit from the London branch if necessary. I'm also going to iduct two or three new members at that time."

"Very good, sir," Tunaghost agreed.

I stood, and the others followed suit. _God,_ I thought._ I really am the leader of all this, aren't I?_

"Um..." I said, tripping over my words. "Meeting adjourned."

As the Board members all took their leave, some of the Senior Agents approaching me to introduce themselves briefly on a first-name basis, or to simply express how glad they were that I brought such an urgent matter to their attention. It was pretty nice, and a little more welcoming, getting real names from some of these people.

Agent Nessie, short as I had imagined, blonde, narrow-shouldered and probably no older than thirty, introduced himself as Cuthbert Barclay. His grandparents, he told me, lived in Scotland, hence his fascination with the undersea monster known to dwell there. Agent Kappa's real name was Arnaud Desmarais, and he wore a tweed suit, suggesting that he was a working professor.

I regrettably did not get a chance to speak to Agents Cthulhu and Bloodrose, but I did catch the surname _Trujillo,_ and saw them clasp hands as they left. Husband and wife, huh? It must have been nice to have a bond with someone who shared an interest like this.

"Ready, sir?" Tunaghost asked as I watched the Trujillos leave.

"Yes," I told her quickly. "Thank you."

She escorted me out of the building. Standing in the parking lot, she asked me, "You're not old enough to drive, correct?"

I hung my head, getting embarrassed. "No, ma'am," I replied. "I'm thirteen."

"There's no problem with that... aside from the fact that I have no vehicle." Tunaghost laughed.

"I can just call my sister for a ride," I said. "It's no problem."

"I thought your profile stated that your sister was _younger."_

"She is," I explained, turning on my communication watch, "but she can expertly pilot our Irken ship."

"S-Sir, I don't think that's wise right now," Tunaghost stammered. "I'll simply walk you. I'm armed."

I gulped. "Okay," I gave in. It would be about a half-hour walk, but I was fine with that, since I had a bodyguard. As we started walking off in the direction of my house, I asked her, "What is your real name?"

"You're serious about eliminating the secrecy, aren't you?"

"If we don't, we won't get anything done in time," I warned her.

Tunaghost sighed and removed her rose-tinted glasses. "Charlotte Baudelaire," she answered. I'd never really considered that woman pretty before, just from her voice, but she did have a certain charm. Her short, slightly spiked hair was dyed blue, and her single earring (a cross, to fend off vampires) glistened in the pool of light the streetlamps cast on the walk. She had a fairly thin frame, and a strong chin. I estimated her to be around thirty-five, possibly a little closer to forty. So, somewhere around my dad's age. Dad's age was a confusing subject for me, and I never really wanted to think about it. All I'd known was that, based on the Incident, he'd start going grey by the time I was sixteen. Haha. Oh wait. Genetics. Shit.

"You see?" I laughed, bringing myself back to Charlotte. "That's a beautiful name. Why should you hide it?"

Charlotte blushed. "I-I'm flattered, sir."

"Please lay off...well... stop, for now, calling me 'sir,'" I requested. "It's very uncomfortable."

"All... all right," Charlotte sighed.

We walked in half-silence the rest of the way, keeping conversation short. The fact that I didn't want to talk much about my new duties as President of the Board were clear, but I did ask about our sister branches. London, center of the UK branch, was most prominent and most actively associated with our US branch, but there were sister chapters throughout the world, each operating with their own Boards or Councils. There was at least one Headquarters on each occupied continent, though Europe and Asia had more branches than any other. Charlotte contributed well to our conversation, and walked protectively by my side until we reached my front door. She was just about to turn and leave when the unthinkable happened.

I'd been avoiding my father as much as I could since my return, since Gaz had advised that it was the best thing to do, and it seemed he'd been avoiding me as well. At that moment, however, I regretted not speaking to him immediately... or at all.

Because, of all fucking times, he'd just come home.

Charlotte stood protectively in front of me as my father parked his car and walked aggressively toward us. I could feel the wave of anger wash over him... I could see his rising, raging aura, filled with hatred towards me, his own son.

"Stand aside," Dad said to Charlotte firmly.

"He's in our care, now," Charlotte hissed back at my father, sounding like she was trying to keep me from hearing the words. "Please, let him decide on his own, Professor."

"I will decide what's best for my son," Dad affirmed. "Leave, Baudelaire."

"Dad!" I cut in, shocked at his use of Charlotte's last name, which I had only recently learned. "You... you two know each other?"

"Go inside, son," Dad said to me fiercely. "I need to speak with you."

"No way, Dad," I refuted firmly. "I'm not going anywhere until—"

"Do not talk back to me!" the man shouted, his blue goggles flashing at me such that I could almost feel the heat from his real eyes.

"Charles, please!" Charlotte screamed. After she'd said that, she stepped backwards and clapped her hands over her mouth.

"Charles?" I heard Gaz ask. I turned to find my sister in the doorway. "Dib, who the hell is this? Another girlfriend? And Dad..." she added, turning to look up at him, "is your name..."

"Never... address me by that name again..." Dad warned Charlotte, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. "Both of you... inside, this _instant! _Charlotte..." he continued, looking over at her. "My son will never be a part of your corrupt Organization. From this moment, you are to cut all ties from that Network to this house, understood?"

"That..." Charlotte began.

"That's fine," I interrupted, walking over to her. "I don't need to be in this house to be a part of the Network. Dad... I'm the _head_ of the Network now!"

Dad stumbled backward, at a loss for words.

"You're _what?"_ Gaz screamed.

"That's right," I said, stepping up to my father and trying hard to make eye contact. "I'm thirteen years old, Dad, not seven. I don't have to live under this roof if I don't feel it's the proper environment for me. Great job raising me so far, Dad, you don't even know my name! I don't need to put up with this anymore! I... am moving... _out!"_

I could not believe those words had just flown out of my mouth. I couldn't take them back now, though... it was much too late. The moment was building, and I was becoming angrier at my father with each passing second.

"Dib, NO!" Gaz cried.

"I'm leaving," I reiterated. "Beginning _tomorrow,_ I'm going to live at the Network complex!" I turned to Charlotte. "That's fine, isn't it?"

Charlotte nodded, still looking petrified. "I-it is, sir, but..."

"You are not going anywhere!" my father bellowed. "You're my son, and—"

"So treat me like I am!" I shouted at him. "Until you really come to grips with what that means, Dad, I'm moving out! I'm following the path that I know is right for me! I'm going where I'm needed! Where I belong! I'm not going to live in this household any longer! If you really wanted to look out for me, Dad, you'd let me pursue my own field of study instead of forcing your own upon me! In several ways... I'm _not your son!"_

Dad was silent for a moment after I'd shouted that, then walked into the house, brushing past Gaz. "I'm not forgiving you for this, Baudelaire," he said coldly to Charlotte. "I'm going to shut your Network down."

"Char—Professor, wait!" Charlotte tried. Too late; Dad wasn't about to answer her.

Tears filled my eyes. I hadn't moved since I yelled at my father. Not even to watch him walk away. I stood motionless for a while, then, when I felt a single tear roll down my cheek, I dropped to my knees.

"Dib!" Gaz cried, rushing out to me and putting her hands on my shoulders. "Dib, you didn't mean that right?" she asked hopefully. "You're not really moving out, are you? _Are you?"_

I couldn't find words with which I could answer her. I just stared straight ahead at the empty night, knowing the gravity of everything I'd just said.

"S-sir, are you..." Charlotte began, stepping up to us.

"Who are you?" Gaz demanded of her. "Get the hell away from my brother! Just what are you trying to do? You're from that stupid paranormal network, aren't you? All of you! You're trying to destroy what little family life we have left, aren't you? If Dad gets that upset about Dib—"

"It's alright, Gaz," I said, finally finding my voice.

"But..."

"This was my choice," I told her. "I've become the head of that Network now. It's best if I'm at the developing complex anyway."

"You can't mean that."

"I do."

"Then..." Gaz decided, speaking quietly, "I'm coming, too."

– – –

– – –

**Author's Note:**

It was my birthday yesterday (a huuuge thank you to readers who commented with birthday wishes; you are awesome!), and as promised, here is my extra semi-present of a second update! ^^

Heehee~ I'm glad I've finally come around to posting this part! :3 Thank you all so much for your wonderful reviews and continued readership! Things are really starting to pick up in the story, I hope you like it~!

See you next Friday, **June 3****rd****!** Heading into the Swollen Eyeball next week~~ :3

~Jizena~

– – –


	17. Swollen Eyeball 2: So I Would Wait

– – –

**Author's Note:**

_Invader Zim_ is -c- Jhonen Vasquez! Only the events of this story (and the character tweaking, heh) are mine. :3

~Jizena~

– – –

_Gaz's Records_

It took a little while, but I finally got Dib back into the house, feeling like I was smuggling him into his own room, for fear that Dad would explode if he saw him. I didn't understand why Dad always had to be so dramatic. Almost my entire childhood had been spent trying to figure out who I was, since my father sure didn't offer me any choices, so I usually had withdrawn into myself and taken darker paths, taking out my anger on the rest of the world. I hadn't realized how much I really did just want attention and care from other people until the Incident happened, and when Zim went back to being Irken, the only person for me to talk to was my brother.

That had ended up being a good thing for both of us, up until he'd gone to Meekrob and I'd been left alone with Dad, who seemed to be a big fan of not caring what Dib and I decided to do while he wasn't around (which was obviously often). So, my bond with Dib being what it had become, it was natural I'd side with him on his decision, as much as it scared me.

I never thought I'd actually ever be scared of my own father, but that night I was. Once Dib and I were inside, he went up to the roof to think, and I explained as nicely as I could to Nacea and Tenn that he really had to be alone for a while (emphasizing it to Nacea about four times, since she was so eager to help), I gathered my wits and went downstairs to look for my father. I felt that, even if I was a little frightened of him, I at least had a better chance of getting something coherent out of him than Dib had. I didn't want Dad to hate Dib (I mean come on, a father actually _hating_ his own son when he'd done nothing wrong?), but that night it seemed like Dad wanted the two of them to be complete strangers.

My hopes went up a little as I descended the stairs into my father's enormous laboratory, since the last time I'd done that I'd glimpsed Dad's face in shadow. A kid shouldn't have to feel that way about her dad, should she? She shouldn't have to want to see what he looks like, even though he's around her every day. Such was my life, though; I had to accept it.

Dad wasn't doing anything of importance once I got down there. Usually he was working, even after he and Dib had a falling-out. Work was more important to him than we seemed to be, which was pretty annoying, but again, we'd gotten used to it over the past several years. Instead of working, this time, though, he was just leaning up against one of his work tables, again in shadow (so much so that I couldn't see anything above his shoulders, though), tugging at his left electrically-charged glove, looking ready to pull it right off.

"Uh... Dad?" I began tentatively, not really knowing where to begin.

Dad sharply pulled the glove back on. "What is it?" he wondered.

"Can I talk to you?" I wondered.

"I'm busy," he dismissed, walking around into the light, about to set to work at another table.

"No, you're not," I refuted. "Talk to me, Dad. I'm not asking you anymore."

My father let out a harsh sigh, as though making time for me had become a chore, and turned to face me. In the time since the Incident, Dad had been changing... just a little, but he was definitely changing. His hair, like Dib's, was a little longer, especially in the back, going down to the nape of his neck, though he kept it neater than the mess my brother never bothered to deal with. Dad's overall attitudes toward everything had seemed different, too (at least until that night), and he moved at a faster pace, as though preparing for something. He looked older than he should have, too, and this was saying something, since I could never see his whole face.

Dad muttered something under his breath. When I demanded to know what he'd said, he repeated, "You seem to be taking after her."

"Who, Mom?" I wondered.

"Who else?"

"What do you mean?" If ever there was a time I wished I could have seen that man's expression...

"If your mother were here, Gaz, I'd—"

"Well, she's not!" I shouted, stamping my foot. "You know what, Dad? She's _not_ here. What's up with you bringing her up recently all of a sudden anyway? You always avoided talking about her. Are you hiding something from us?"

I saw Dad's fingers curl in one at a time to form fists, the material of his gloves stretching with the movement, and he turned away, setting to work on whatever he had on the table. "Listen, this isn't the time for us to talk about this," he said absently. "Your brother isn't in the house is he?"

"No," I lied. Technically, he _was_ outside, though. Loophole.

"Good. If he's leaving tomorrow, he's as good as gone today."

"You do realize it's your own kid you're talking about, right?" Dad said nothing. "Your son? My brother?" Nothing. "Dad, look at me, I want to talk to you."

"I'm working."

"Dad, just look at me!" Angrily, I stormed up and whirled him around, then glared at him, into what I assumed were his eyes behind those enormous goggles he always wore. Hot tears stung my eyes, and I shouted, "Can't you just for once take those things off so I _know_ you're looking at me? Or is that too hard for you?"

"A lot of things are hard!" Dad shouted. "Things have been hard for years and there's nothing I can do about that now! Leave alone what doesn't concern you!"

"It does concern me!" I practically screamed. "You're my dad and I don't even know you! Doesn't that bother you? It bothers me!"

"Clearly we think differently," Dad said. It seemed almost as if he was forcing himself to say it.

I sighed and tried my best not to cry. A lot was making me cry lately: Dib's long absence, Zim's perpetual state of... whatever state he was in, not having parental support at such a time in my life. I'd accepted the fact that sometimes I just had to, but I didn't want to at the time, since it would've shown to Dad that I was weak enough to give in and leave.

Of course, that's what I ended up doing anyway.

"You know what, Dad? Fine," I dismissed. "I'm leaving to join Dib tomorrow anyway. You know, for once, I'd just like to have a real talk with you. Call us when you're ready to care." I backed away toward the stairs, and Dad kept on working. "You probably won't even notice we're gone in the morning."

– – –

That night, when I'd finally gotten to sleep after hours of tossing and turning, I barely dreamed, but when I did, the dreams were hopeful. Hopeful that my brother would be a good leader for his network, that they'd accept me, and that someday Dad would call when he realized he missed us.

I woke from my dreams when for some reason somebody spoke Zim's name. I was facing the wall when I woke up, and stared out my window for a little while, wondering when the Irkens would launch their real attack. I shuddered at the thought of Zim and Tak working together, and shifted to lie on my other side. That was when I noticed my sheets had been smoothed down. There was no way they'd stayed that way (especially since I hadn't made my bed in the past couple of days and tossing and turning just makes it worse), and I smiled when the logical solution came to my head.

Maybe Dad wasn't so far from reform after all.

– – –

The next morning, I woke with a pressure in my chest that wouldn't cease. For something near an hour, I lay awake staring at my ceiling, wondering what life had in store for me now. Only a few things were certain. Dib was moving out. The only logical thing to do was follow him. So that meant living with those paranormal crazies... and maybe they weren't as bad as I thought. I really did hope they'd welcome me, even if I didn't feel like really taking part in the network. I just had to be near my brother. We were siblings, and that was the only thing that made sense anymore. I had one thing I could rely on. Stick with that.

Slowly, I rose and walked down the hall, the pressure on my chest getting worse with every step. I knew what the added anxiety was once I'd reached his room: Dib was gone. He may even have left during the night. His bed was all made up, and the room looked ready to be lived in again, but the essentials were gone. His computer, his laptop, most of his clothes (as could be evidenced by the open and vacant wardrobe), and several books were missing.

Not wanting to react, I left the room, ready to pack up my own essentials and get out of my house. As I started back down the hall, I lingered by Dad's room, the door of which was uncommonly ajar. My heart skipped, and I took advantage of this opportunity and pushed the door open just a little more, and a little more, until I was standing inside.

I hadn't stood in my father's room in ages. Dad hadn't been home and seemed to need to use so much as his own bed in ages, so it stood to reason. The bed, a modest, queen-sized mattress on a black iron frame, was neatly kept, and dressed in sheets of complimenting greys and blues that I remembered back from when Mom was around. So much for all of her stuff being gone. The room itself was uninteresting as rooms go. Dad had a desk in there, neatly kept with files and loose papers, bills and forms I noticed upon closer investigation, and a dresser, which actually made me laugh, since I had no idea what else Dad could possibly be wearing under his lab coat. As the years had gone on, I began assuming he had maybe two shirts and two pairs of pants he switched out under about a hundred lab coats. Nothing hung on the walls but a calendar, which was scrawled on with events and such so much that it looked like nothing but lines and lines of black and red ink.

Tucked into a corner of the desk, though, far behind a stack of papers, I noticed the corner of a photo frame. My heart beat wildly, and I approached with caution, as if Dad would catch me and kill me if I tread any less softly. When I freed the frame from its paper stack prison, I found myself holding an old photograph of my mother.

I did look like her. My face was maturing into similar angular cheekbones, and we clearly had similar hair colors, though hers was much lighter. Mom was so pretty, though. She couldn't have been more than twenty-two in the photograph, and she was smiling. That set us apart for sure. Her familiar green eyes held me from the confines of her frame, so to break my trance, I hugged the photo to my chest and snuck it out of the room.

It wound up getting packed in with my clothes. Oops. Dad wouldn't miss it. Dad had his own photo, down in the basement. He wouldn't miss just one. And if he did, screw it. Let that be a lesson to him.

Mom left.

Dib left.

I was leaving, too.

If Dad had a shred of decency, a shred of humanity in him, he'd come after us. He could sit and pine for his wife—ex-wife?—all he wanted, but maybe losing his kids would make him wake up. I could only hope.

Clothes went in, my GameSlave went in, against my best judgment my daggers went in, a few books—especially Mom's poetry book—went into my two suitcases. It was all I allowed myself. After all, I had no clue how I was getting there. I grabbed my laptop and my communication watch, since Dib had fixed his and I could at least reach him that way to figure out transportation.

Then, I zipped in my calendar, and paused at my bedside table. Time was rushing through my fingers faster than I had ever imagined. Almost. So close. It had almost been three yars. I told myself my thirteenth birthday was close enough. I could wait. I could wait just that much longer to open the box.

When I picked it up, I read Zim's note again. And then again.

I set it down, I packed my journals.

I picked it back up.

"You stupid idiot!" I screamed at the box in my hands. "You're so fucking selfish! You said you'd come back, or you said you'd try! Try, my ass, you stupid, fucking Irken! I hate you!" Embarrassed to be screaming at nothing, I clamped my mouth shut and leaned back against my bed, cradling the box in my hands.

I didn't hate Zim. I couldn't. I was just concerned. I was concerned that he'd be easily manipulated, especially by Tak, especially now. He only had a vague idea of who he was, as I recalled. He apparently just needed companionship. Well, he should just come back if that was all. We were friends, after all. I wanted to talk to him.

I really, really wanted to talk to him.

Even though I had no idea what I could possibly say.

"I'm still gonna wait," I said, as if to him, sighing as I turned the little box over and back in my hands. "You said three years. I'll be at Dib's stupid little network headquarters. Come there. Just don't target us for Invasion. Stupid Zim. Who the hell are you, anyway?"

So as not to work myself up too much, I packed away the box, took up my guitar, glanced once last time around my room, then went downstairs. The house was painfully quiet. Even our alien fugitives—oh, _guests—_were gone. In the kitchen, I noticed two notes on the table. One was meant for Dad, and one for me, both clearly marked in Dib's script.

_Gaz,_ mine read,_ sorry I left without you. I had to leave before Dad went to work this morning. I hope you understand. Here's the HQ phone number. Call when you're ready and someone will come pick you up. I'm very sorry about all of this, but I'm glad you're coming with me. I won't leave you out of anything any more, I promise. I feel terrible. So find me when you get to HQ, okay?_

I almost smiled, but didn't. I thought to read Dad's note, too, but didn't. I wondered if he'd read it at all.

After mooching off Dad one last time by pouring myself a bowl of cereal, I called the number Dib had left me, and about fifteen minutes later, the blue-haired woman from the night before pulled into the driveway, knocked on the door, exchanged pleasantries with me, and helped me take my things out to her sleek black car. She talked with me as she drove me away, apologizing for the new car smell of her vehicle, which apparently belonged to the network, and chattered a little about how glad she was that Dib was taking his position seriously, and that I was coming along.

"Why?" I wondered, glaring out my window.

"What's that?"

"Why is he in charge? Why would you put a thirteen-year-old in charge?"

The woman—Charlotte—cleared her throat, and said, "It was in our late network head's will. Your brother was very close to our last President, and we need him now to help us learn about this Irken threat. We haven't had such an active mission in so long, granted we are a young organization, but this is of global interest. Your brother is a very intelligent young man, and has clearly done his research about this alien race." When I offered no response, she added, "He is very eager to lead us for these purposes, too. Besides, his age is of no issue. I'm his acting spokesperson. He can set me in charge whenever he likes."

"Well, what about me?" I wondered. "What should I do?"

"Whatever you would like," said Charlotte. "You'll be with us, but take your time to figure out how you want to get involved. Nobody will be pressuring you to do anything you don't feel comfortable doing. We want you to feel at home."

Well. That was more than Dad had offered me. I was still angry with the network swooping down on our lives like this, but once we arrived at the large field beyond the forest at the edge of town, once I saw this small, functional society in its own out-of-the-way location, I decided to give it a try. Besides, if we were going to be dealing with the Irkens, this could be my only chance to speak to Zim. I was still entirely unsure of what I would say, but the opportunity was sure to present itself.

So I would wait.

As horrible as waiting always was.

– – –


	18. Swollen Eyeball 3: Moving In

– – –

**Author's Note:**

_Invader Zim_ is -c- Jhonen Vasquez! Only the events of this story (and the character tweaking, heh) are mine. :3

~Jizena~

– – –

_Dib's Records_

I'd left home for SEO Headquarters at an ungodly hour, too deprived of sleep and sanity to properly pilot my Runner. Despite my overprotectiveness of the vehicle, I had let Tenn pilot it, and the three of us—me, Tenn and Nacea—made it to Headquarters long before my father was set to leave for work. I'd left him a note, telling him to notify my school that I'd be taking a pretty much permanent leave (I wrote, _"I'm dropping out"),_ if he cared to. I also wrote, _"I'm sorry we don't get along, but this is what I need to do. If you call, I won't be offended."_ I left the phone number for HQ on the bottom. I didn't really expect him to call, but deep down, I kind of wanted him to.

Once at HQ, I passed out, drained, on a sofa somewhere. It was too dark and I was too out of it to figure out the room's layout. I told Tenn and Nacea to make themselves comfortable, trusted that they'd be fine, and slept for a few hours. Light flooded the room when I opened my eyes, and I was surprised to find myself in something resembling a living room. My two traveling companions were nowhere to be seen, but I decided I'd figure out their whereabouts later.

I stretched, and looked around the room. It didn't feel like an office at all. I was in a large, open room, facing a few pieces of furniture that completed the living room feel: a new-looking plush recliner, and a sitting chair with a matching hassock. A large TV hung on the wall to my right, and next to it was a large bay window that overlooked the field in which the SEO complex had been built. Behind the chairs was the hallway that led out to the front door, and back into the grand hallway of rooms beyond. Lining that hallway were four doors; behind me was a perfectly symmetrical hallway, minus a front door. To my left, the living room opened up into a well-equipped kitchen, which was separated from the couch and such by a long counter, at which were set up three barstools. The counter looked into the kitchen completely, and my view was only obstructed by a beam supporting the structure, which cut off the counter and made room for the entrance, which was completely open, not being marked off by a doorway or anything. The kitchen was small, but did not want for storage space. The fridge, right in the entrance area, on the left wall, was of larger-than-average size, and in addition to a stove on the right wall, the far wall counter had on it a toaster oven, rice cooker, slow cooker, and a few other appliances I had never even used before at home. The far wall had a double-sink installed as well.

I stood, and instantly realized I needed to find the bathrooms. I didn't have to go far—I wandered into the hallway that led out to the front door, and down to the left, just before the door to the grand hallway, was the entrance to a very large bathroom, equipped with two shower stalls on one end and two toilet stalls on the other, divided in the center by a row of four sinks, each with an individual mirror. Once I was washing up, I took a look at myself in the mirror above my current sink. My hair was an awful mess, so I fixed it a little, since I had to start presenting myself as a leader. I considered taking a shower, but was interrupted by someone clearing his throat behind me.

I turned to see, taking up almost the entire doorway, the imposing Agent Cthulhu, revealed to be a Mr. Trujillo the night before, with his massive, tanned arms folded across his chest. While a little scary, probably just because of the ex-Army vibe, his eyes, one yellow and one lacking much pigment, were awkwardly kind. "I see you came early," he said, his voice as chiselled and gruff as the features of his square face.

"Um... yeah," I said. "Sorry, I-I told Charlotte. Tunaghost. Ch-Charlotte. Is she around?"

"She's gone on errands. My wife and I are to show you around, get you acquainted to the place," said Cthulhu.

"Oh. That's nice of you," I offered, drying my hands and tepidly walking over to join him. I was grateful for his hulking 5'10" frame, since I sort of felt like a kid again. For once. Then again, now wasn't the time for that. Childhood was over, the end, done. It would hit me soon enough, but for now I painted on an air of refinement. I had to be a leader. Okay. How the hell do I do that? I wanted to take etiquette lessons with Charlotte all of a sudden. I remembered how she carried herself: business professional, shoulders back, chin high. If I could affect that, I might pass. It was a little too much to process so soon, though. Not to mention so early, and with little sleep. And with the back of my mind buzzing about how rude I'd been to my asshole father.

Cthulhu was casually dressed, though, which also put me at ease. He was wearing a comfortable shirt, jeans, and tan boots, which suggested he'd been doing work already, and the smell of sawdust that clung to him only confirmed that. On one forearm, I noticed, was neatly tattooed a saying: _"La suerte esta echada."_ I told myself to inquire after the meaning later. Confidently, he led me down into the grand hall, which, in the sunlight that shot down from the tilted skylight windows, was grand indeed. The floor either was or accurately resembled marble, and the walls were a welcoming blue. Along the walls were several doors, each leading, I was sure, to a room I was to learn about in due time. I already knew the location of the Board room, the first door after the front hallway, all the way down on the left. Cthulhu led me to the right, however. We passed two closed doors, and found the third, marked _STUDIO_, ajar. Cthulhu knocked twice, then swung the door open.

Inside, in shadow, sat his wife. She was hunched over a table, furiously sketching something in a thick black pen. She held up her non-dominant (in her case, right) index finger to indicate that she was almost finished, and then, a few seconds later, her sketch was complete. She set the pen down emphatically on the table's surface, then clicked a lightswitch which filled the room with a bright glow. "There!" she announced in her lovely accent. "Finished. I had to get that out of my head before it was gone."

"What were you sketching?" I wondered.

Agent Bloodrose—Mrs. Trujillo—smiled, her teeth white behind dark, fittingly, rose-red lipstick, and stood. She was wearing a black tank top—I realized it was quite warm in the building, despite the shivering climate outside—which revealed her arms to me. Down each of her sunkissed arms were several tattoos. They never amassed to form full sleeves, but were prominent in several places. A rose decorated her right shoulder, and vines were painted down her full right arm, wrapping like bracelets around her wrist. Her left arm was a testament to her love of the paranormal: symbols and signs... familiar crop circle configurations, emblems of ancient organizations, outlines of fossils—everything she had studied was worn with pride on that arm. "My next tattoo!" she announced, holding up her sketch.

"That's amazing," I marveled, looking at the intricate details of the creature she had drawn. It was a bat, marked on its body with tribal tattoos of its own, suggesting its influence on a region in an island nation I'd read about before, where large bats were feared and revered by native inhabitants.

"Sketched from memory," Bloodrose said, setting her paper back down. "My husband and I saw this on one of our trips abroad earlier this year."

"She likes to keep evidence of her findings in the open," Cthulhu added.

"It's a hobby," she shrugged. "Anyhow," she transitioned, walking around her desk, "I did not get the chance to properly meet you. My name is Anita Trujillo, formerly Moreno. This is my husband, Federico." I shook her hand kindly. _Get used to that,_ I told myself.

"I prefer Cthulhu," said her husband.

"I won't argue, but why?" I wondered.

"If it isn't too much, sir, I would prefer my codename as well," said Bloodrose. "We've used these nicknames long before the Organization. It would be strange to be called otherwise now."

After a little thought, I said, "I guess that's fair. As long as I can use your names on registers and things, and as long as your real names show up on some form of ID." That sounded accurate. After all, I really wanted, as long as I was going to be in charge of this place, to make sure there were no spies. No leaks. I wanted everyone to have ID, and to know everyone's name. I wanted to get to know everyone as best I could, so that I'd be able to spot unfamiliar activity, especially if Tak were to get anyone under her hypnosis. I shuddered again at the thought of her and Zim working together. Well. At least now I had my backup. Wait till Zim found _that_ out. "I really do want you to call me 'Dib,' though," I added. "No Mothman. No 'sir,' ugh, _please_ no 'sir.' And," I put in as an afterthought, "no _Membrane."_

Cthulhu and Bloodrose exchanged a glance, and agreed in their own separate ways.

Once the formality of introduction was through, I did indeed get a tour, starting right there in Bloodrose's studio. It was her tattoo studio—she had gone, I learned, to the Fashion Institute of Technology in New York, and worked for a while designing clothes with particular sensors built in, to aid in ghost hunting and other paranormal investigations. Her love of art then turned her to begin working on tattoo design, and she had been doing it on the side ever since. I made a note to have her put her clothing design to use, should we need anything particular for the army I'd asked Brakem to gather. I _hoped_ we'd get an army, anyway.

From the studio, we continued with the main building's various rooms. The grand hall was also home to two offices, one of which, Cthulhu said, almost proudly, was mine. I could use it for whatever research I wanted. The kid—and investigator—in me got wildly excited at this point. My own research lab. My own office. My own damn paranormal institution.

Okay, this wasn't too bad. I'd take it.

It was just the leadership qualities that hurt my brain to think about.

The door past the Board room led to a large, yet unused room, in which Bloodrose had stored her other hobby, a Celtic harp, and had gathered a few other instruments. People needed hobbies, I supposed. Even though I wasn't much a fan of music, I wouldn't stop the other members from keeping up with their passions. I could let there be a music room. Beyond that, there was a small infirmary, with two private rooms. It was there that I realized how enormous the building truly was, to house a private practice as well as everything else. I met the doctors, as well: both were men roughly in their fifties, one was an extraterrestrial enthusiast from Tasmania who could treat more poisons than I knew existed, and the other was a physician and chiropractor who had come from Wisconsin; he ended up weaving me a full first-encounter tale of the Beast of Bray Road.

Computer-stocked research labs, a library, a staircase that led up to the roof—I learned the use of every door but one. Cthulhu dismissed it as being a work in progress, but I got the sense that I just wasn't supposed to go in there. Not yet anyway. So of course my curiosities went crazy. Somehow or other, I would find out what the hell was behind that door.

We then grabbed our coats and took a quick walk outside, where I really took in the horseshoe shape of the buildings in the field. That, and just how massive the field was. Further down, past the main building, was a lake—whether natural or man-made, I couldn't tell—and beyond that a patch of rocky ground that eventually angled up into cliffs, keeping us well-hidden on all sides. Forest surrounded the rest of the large field, and there were scatterd trees around the complex, as well. The horseshoe was made up of the main building (on the end), dormitories, research labs, a _dojo_ and general gym area, an unfinished conference and reception hall, and several other unfinished buildings. The parking lot was far past the conference hall. Even if one drove to the complex, they'd have to walk a ways to really get in.

When we returned inside, I heard activity on the hall to the left, which I ignored long enough to store my things. Bloodrose explained that the doors in the front halls belonged to private dorms, one of which was mine (and had an attached second study, which was fantastic). The room I claimed was in the hall that also led out to the front door, and was of good size. It had a bed, bookshelves, a closet and chest of drawers, and that attached study, which made it feel—right, for lack of any better words.

Curiosity got the better of me, and I journeyed over to the hall on the left, where one door was ajar. I creaked it open, and found that it was a room of similar size to mine, but furnished with two beds, closets and chests. On one of the chests was set up a large stereo system, and the bookshelves were already lined. Sitting on the bed to the left, pouring over a book of American English idioms, was Tenn, in hologram, 'dressed' as usual. As she read, she fiddled with a set of keys in one hand, swinging them around and catching them, swinging them around and catching them. Nacea was there as well, but she was busy putting things into place, lining up books to her liking (even though I had not yet seen her read one) and marveling over a small laptop that sat on her chest of drawers.

"Dib!" she exclaimed, approaching and hugging me when she noticed me. I winced a little, and she backed off. I really was weird about the contact thing. Especially since I felt that Meekrob pulse from Nacea all the time anyway. "This is very exciting," she said, backing up and clasping her hands at her waist in front of her. She had a little bit of light blue in her usually white-only dress that day, and wore a thicker, long-sleeved white shrug over that, suggesting that she was paying attention to the fact that other women were clad in sweaters this time of year. Despite her best efforts, she was still given away by her lack of shoes. "Tenn and I are to share this room, while we stay here. I am glad to be a part of your network, and I believe Tenn is, as well. Am I correct?" she wondered, looking over at Tenn.

Tenn flipped the page in her book. "Yep. Wicked excited," she said. I was sure she was, more than she sounded, but she was devouring that book—I get like that, too, when I'm reading. Shut out the rest of the world, because only that one page is important. She did add, "I like that we don't have to hide out here like we did at your house."

"Good point."

"And maybe I can learn some Earth fighting moves with that Brakem guy."

"Yeah," I agreed, "you guys should talk. You are interested in fighting for our cause?"

Tenn shrugged, still looking at the book. "I'm still really mad at the Tallest. So yes."

"Well. Great!"

"Oh, and look!" Nacea exclaimed, rushing back to pick up the little laptop, and then eagerly rushing back to show me. "We do not have computers on Meekrob any more, as you know. I contacted our Chairman, by the way, and he has offered our support in your efforts, and is proud of this new development."

"That's great," I managed.

"But look at this!" Nacea marveled, delicately opening the laptop, her icy eyes wide in wonder. "I told your lovely assistant Charlotte about my wish to research more, and return to my planet with other means of knowledge and communication. As a gift, she has given me this. I am to use its... its internet... and its electronic library."

"Congratulations, Nacea," I said, truly happy for her. I hoped she'd catch onto how to use it soon, since I didn't know if I'd have time to teach her. She was already learning the English alphabet fine on her own, though Tenn and I did help (since Tenn could somehow already read it, despite the Irken alphabet being wildly different, but I didn't question it). Hopefully someone else around, maybe Charlotte, could help Nacea figure out computers. Judging only by the way she was handling the device, she had quite a bit of learning to do. But that was what she wanted. Knowledge. This was a good deal for her, then.

Before I could have any further conversations with the two, I heard a guitar strum in the room next door. Knowing that could mean only one thing, I excused myself and, taking a deep breath, walked down the hall and knocked on the door behind which the music was filtering from. The guitar stopped, and a few seconds later, my sister opened the door.

"Hi," I managed.

"Hey," she said, a little sourly.

"You get my note?"

"Yep." She looked very bitter. Downtrodden. Unsure.

"And you came, huh?" I said, trying to keep things light. "I'm glad you did."

"I said I wouldn't leave you," she said flatly, keeping her eyes downcast. "I meant it."

I started to feel a little sorry for her, and tried to smooth things out with options. "Gaz, you don't have to do this if it's uncomfortable for you," I told her, trying to keep my tone kind.

"Dad's already madder than ever," she said in reply to my statement. "I don't want to be in the house with him alone. You're the only person in the world right now who I could possibly care about. I'm staying. Don't even try to stop me, Dib. I'll deal. Really."

With that, she marched past me into the common area, where she retrieved a suitcase. "Do you need any help bringing things in?" I asked softly, realizing that there wasn't much else I could say at the moment.

Gaz shook her head and tromped back into the room which would now be hers, and said, "I have everything I care about right in here." She set the suitcase up on her bed, and started unpacking little things. I tepidly followed her in. "I already brought in most of my clothes, too. This is the last of it."

I sighed and glanced around her room. All rooms were furnished the same, I guesed. Her room, too, had an extra bed, closet and the like, but I doubted she would ever agree to share a space. So far, though, nobody else was around who might need it (I had learned from the Trujillos that they were staying in one of the detached dorms, and Charlotte already had a room to herself, the one closest on what was now the girls' wing to the Board room), so things seemed okay. "Gaz," I began, "I thought you hated para—"

"Just let me stay here, Dib," she shot at me, setting her video game console down on the bed. "I hate it, but I'm staying. I could... do secretary work or something."

"Gaz..." I tried.

Gaz rifled through the suitcase again. "I'm moving in now. Shouldn't you do the same?"

I wanted more than anything to console her, but I realized that, at the moment, it was pretty much useless. Reluctantly, I left her room and walked back to my office to set up my computer, being the most important thing I'd brought along with me from home.

It was a little hard to accept that this was my permanent residence now. Dad had basically disowned me, and it was all my fault that Gaz felt the same. I wasn't sure if I would ever even talk to my father again, let alone confront him to tell him how I felt; how much I wanted to patch things up with him and maybe even have a normal conversation. At one point in time, it might not have been too much to ask, but after my three-month absence and my becoming leader of the SEO, it seemed impossible.

"Do you need any help?" I heard Nacea ask after I'd been setting up for a while.

"I think I've got it," I replied, "thanks. Are you and Tenn all set?"

"We are fine," said Nacea. "I have set everything in place, and Tenn is very comfortable. She does not need sleep, though. I suppose it might get lonely."

Before I could stop myself, I said, "Come find me if you get lonely, okay?" No, there was nothing wrong with saying that, but to me it felt forward. I cleared my throat and looked away, trying not to think about girls. Especially specific ones.

"Are you alright?" asked Nacea, getting my attention again.

"F-fine," I covered, faking a smile for her.

"Gaz does not seem to be," Nacea let me know, sounding sad. My heart sank, and I felt even worse about msyelf. "She is alone, and when I asked if she needed anything, she told me to go away. Does your sister hate me?"

"Gaz... isn't really a social person," I told Nacea, walking up to her and putting a hand on her shoulder. Her aura felt a little weaker, possibly due to the fact that she wasn't as energetic as usual. "I should've told you before... she likes to have time to herself."

"But is the best cure for that not to speak to someone?" Nacea wondered.

"Usually," I agreed. Sighing, I added, "But whenever I try, it just gets worse with her."

"You should keep trying," Nacea suggested.

I smiled. "You know, Nacea, you're right," I said. "I'll try to have another talk with her."

Nacea smiled. "Well, I am going to go look around," she announced. "Tenn said that she found a body of water nearby! I have never seen anything like that yet on Earth, so if it is all right with you, I would like to go exploring."

"Have fun," I said. Before she could leave, I added, "Um... sometime, if you'd like, I'll take you down to the lake myself..."

"That would be even more fun!" Nacea exclaimed, throwing her arms around me. I felt myself blush, and tried my hardest to calm myself down. Nacea pulled away and smiled again, then walked back to the room she and Tenn would be sharing. I had no idea where Nacea's urge to hug had come from... I guessed it was mixed happiness and a physicalization of the way Meekrob naturally exert energy. She was becoming more and more excited about Earth, too, which was great, and could seem both highly well-learned and blissfully innocent at the same time. If only my sister could stop and realize that life wasn't all that bad, too. Nacea's light energy was too much for Gaz, but I wished she could learn something from her. Smile, maybe.

I heaved out a sigh, then gathered my courage and walked back down to her room. Her door was slightly propped open; I decided just going in wouldn't be the best thing to do, so I knocked on the doorframe twice. "Gaz?" I asked.

"What?"

"Um... can I come in?"

"Whatever."

I cautiously opened the door, and felt a sting in my chest when I stepped into the room. Gaz had moved in completely, and was now just sitting on her bed, looking down at the small, mysterious box she held in her hands. She'd tied her hair back into a low, loose ponytail, but it was already coming undone, and her hair fell limply over her shoulders.

"Gaz, I..." I began. "Um... I'm glad I'll still be able to see you every day," I decided on.

"Yeah, I guess," she replied.

"Listen, Gaz, I... I know it's hard, but things'll get better," I tried, forcing myself to smile, hoping she'd do the same. "Nothing's as bad as it seems..."

"I might see that someday," she said. "Just... not yet."

"I-It's going to get better, I promise," I said. "Everyone will be happy to have you here."

"I know," Gaz shrugged. "A couple of them have already said things to me."

"And?"

"I don't really care right now."

"Could you maybe at least smile when—" I suggested.

"That's asking too much," Gaz snapped.

"Gaz..."

"I'm sorry, Dib," she said, finally turning to look at me, "but I don't think I'll ever smile again."

– – –

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**Author's Note:**

Small update today, but things are moving forward~! Early update tonight, too! :3 I'm getting really excited for the updates that will come these next few weeks..! ^^

Thank you all so so so much for the lovely reviews~~! I'm so glad to hear that you are liking the story, and hope that you will enjoy the continuations to come. Reading these awesome reviews always make my day! :3

See you next week, on **Friday, June 10****th****,** for the next few chapters! (It's going to be another really big update next week~ ^^)

~Jizena~

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– – –

Extra note, 6/4: I re-re-re-read this chapter today, since I had the feeling something was off, and I was right! This is very embarrassing, but my eagle-editing-eye missed something: Agent Cthulhu's name is supposed to be _Federico. _I had originally published this with his name being_ Sergio._ I made this error a lot in the early chapters and hoped my editing this time through would fix that... so what is posted above now is the real version, and I'll delete this note after next week's update. But here's a fun-fact: Sergio Trujillo is a _real person;_ he is a Broadway dancer and choreographer! Being a theatre person, his name is in my head constantly. Sorry about that! So, though Cthulhu and Bloodrose will still be referred to mostly by their Agent names, their given names will be resurfacing in later parts, and _Federico_ will henceforth be used, since that's the actual name I meant for Cthulhu. I am a silly person for overlooking that error. ^^;;;;;

– – –


	19. Partnership 5: Tavis

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**Author's Note:**

_Invader Zim_ is -c- Jhonen Vasquez! Only the events of this story, characters specific to the story, and character tweaking (heh) are mine. :3

~Jizena~

– – –

_Zim's Records_

Skutch and I got on each other's nerves like crazy, but the secret partnership worked out. On the side, too, even Larb and Zee slipped me more information about Tak. Skutch's primary job was getting me in the know about that Tavis mineral, and those things Tak was so obsessed with that were linked to it.

I was so concerned with keeping up work with both Skutch and Tak that I rarely had the time to speak with the Tallest any more, but that didn't bother me much. Having a game to play kept life interesting. Having something to occupy my time kept me, for lack of a better word, Irken. GIR had been alarmingly quiet through this whole ordeal on the _Massive,_ as if he was expecting something. I take hints from that little robot every now and then, when he becomes abnormally pensive, or when he says something out of place. He always has, and he does to this day.

Tak was constantly wary around me, and would send me off on errands so that she could work. Get this, get that, it was always something dull. A new tool to tweak something on the computer. Food. A backup disc for MiMi. I only hoped that she didn't realize she was giving me the perfect opportunities, then, to meet up with Skutch.

"Hey," he said on one such rendezvous, "if Tak has her hands on any Tavis, I want some."

"Eh? Sure," I agreed. "I mean, you should get something for helping me anyway."

Skutch sneered. "What kind of attitude is that?" he wondered.

I shut up. _Human,_ was the answer, but I didn't say it. "Anyway, yes," I told him. "Why do you want it, anyway?"

"Figured out why it's so valuable, and why it's so rare."

As it turns out, Tavis was once planet Irk's finest export. Before the days of the Armada and the Control Brains, PAK-less Irkens built computers and military equipment from Tavis. Other societies got wind of this, and an intergalactic economy was established. Society flourished; the abundance of the mineral did not. Irk is a comparatively small planet. The _Massive_ is larger than the home planet itself, if that gives any indication. During that early period, the Irkens set cloning and the PAK system into place, in order to increase productive workflow, but the planet became overpopulated, and society took to the stars, transforming the home planet into a giant computer used for what it continued to be used for generations later: cloning and early schooling.

Two Tallest eras before Tallest Miyuki, the Armada was at its peak. The Irkens turned from a society of hard workers to a society of ruthless conquerers, using the Tavic (as was the adjective form) weapons in the newly established Elite to gain territory and even win back some of the precious material. To keep everything regulated and fit to protocol, the Control Brain system was established. Most Irkens born after that were standard clones, showing little differences between them. Every so often, an Irken was born as what was called an Original, one that functioned more independently than the rest of the crowd.

It seemed no secret that Tak was one. Her hypnotic eyes were proof enough.

But the thing about Tavis, the thing that made it so unique, so sought-after, was its impeccable ability to provide invincibility. It was rumored that all PAKs had slivers of Tavis thrown in, hence the secret to Irken longevity beyond the battery life of a simple organic computer.

"The Control Brains made these three things, then," Skutch told me, taking a projection screen out from his PAK and holding it in front of me, activating the hologram. "This just has details about two of them. No clue about the third. One's a mirror, and one's a weapon.

"'Course, there are other old Tavic weapons around, too," he added proudly. "I used to have one, y'know."

"What?" I yelped. "And you never knew what it did?"

"I just knew it was awesome," said Skutch with a forlorn shrug. "It was back before I got the Invader job. Tallest Red 'confiscated' it at that point, so I'm sticking around him to try to get it back."

"What was it?" I had to ask.

Just then, I noticed Tallest Purple approaching, and the two of us fell silent. Well, I fell silent, anyway. Skutch managed to slink off unnoticed. "Invader Zim," Purple greeted, "I haven't seen you in a while. How goes the mission?"

"I... fine," I told him, which seemed an old excuse. "I'm making headway. We. We're making headway."

"I get the impression that Tak is stalling." He paused, and looked down at me with those sharp, radiant purple eyes that soothed and chilled me all the same. "What is it about this Earth place that makes her want to bide her time?"

"Probably the, eh, opposition," I made up quickly, then realized it was most likely true.

"Opposition?"

"Just a couple of humans," I said quickly. "No one to worry about."

"Oh. Of course. Keep me up to date, Zim. I need to know what you're planning."

"Yes, sir," I saluted weakly. Purple turned the corner into a nearby conference room, and I immediately groaned and punched the wall. "Yeah, just a couple humans," I muttered to myself, setting about pacing. "Just that stupid Dib and his little network. But at least he knows," I then found myself saying, "and that means, so does—"

Oh.

Oh, no.

I hadn't thought about her in a while.

I realized that, lately, I lived my life distraction to distraction, trying so hard to forget what had happened that week. To me, and between us.

An awful thought crept into my head. Suppose I just... take a small trip to Earth. Tak wouldn't have to know. The Tallest wouldn't have to know. I could just check up on things. See exactly how threatening those Swollen Eyeball people were. See how serious Dib is about retaliating. Yeah. Nothing too horrible. And then discreetly check up on her. On Gaz.

How many months, how many years had it been?

How many years..?

Oh, _shit,_ not three. _Not three years, no, no, oh, shit._ Three years. Now, I had _completely_ forgotten about _that._ The little matter of that—thing. That stupid thing—

"Just a moment's weakness," I went on muttering to myself. "I was just weak and stupid then. She'll know that, right? It doesn't mean anything. It doesn't mean a damn thing. She doesn't mean a damn—"

_"Will I ever see you like this again?" Gaz wondered, her voice echoing through the alley._

_ "If I have anything to say about it, you will... I promise. I can only hope that this side of me will stay alive."_

"DIE!" I screamed, punching into the wall. "If I can't go anywhere with these feelings... as long as I'm an Irken like I'm supposed to be... why won't these emotions just _die?"_

It was a damn good thing that Tak wasn't around to witness my fall at that moment. I'd been so good about hiding it. I'd been so good, so careful, so precise. So distracted.

_"You need a better distraction,"_ a voice in my head said. _"Why not leave? Why not give it a try? You need to be a little more accepting of what you are—"_

"I don't _need_ to do anything," I snarled. "I don't need anyone or anything more than what I have! I'll destroy that planet from a distance and never feel anything other than what I was programmed to _ever again!"_

_"Listen to yourself... when you have such a great ability... why throw that away?"_

"I suppressed my memories once before and feel no shame in doing so. Why shouldn't I do it again?"

_"Listen," Gaz said, "you had a time when you were worried about me, and now... well, I'm concerned about you! I care about what happens to you!"_

"Shut _up!"_ I cried, holding my head again. "Just... shut... _up!"_

I punched into the wall yet again, then stepped away and blasted it with my PAK. When the wall fell through, I noticed, much to my immediate dismay and embarrassment, that the room on the other side was the room the Tallest were standing in.

"What the—" Tallest Purple began.

"Ah... heh..." I tried to cover. "I didn't..."

"Zim, what do you think you're doing?" Red demanded.

"Um... re-decorating?" I tried, walking backwards and retracting the spider legs in my PAK, even though the tips were still warm from the lasers. _Oh, shiiiit... _I thought. _Now my PAK's gonna overheat! Gotta find a replacement shell..._

"No better excuse?" Red pried.

"I just thought, you know... you could use a little more room..." I made up, still walking backwards. "Change is good right? ...I have to go!"

I whirled around and bolted in the other direction. _"Shit, shit, shit!"_ I hissed through clenched teeth. "The Tallest are gonna kill me! Get Tak... get Tak to cover for me... argh! Why do I keep turning to her?"

My PAK let out a shock, sending me a signal that it was indeed in the process of slowly overheating. The computerized functions could shut down any day now, and the entire PAK itself could simply break in two. It had happened before, to several Irkens. Some were saved, most others were forced to give up their PAKs and accept a premature reincarnation.

But... what was all that about human souls..?

_Shit, shit, shit shit, stop thinking that. Stop thinking that. You don't want a soul. You don't need a soul. You don't need love, you don't need anything._

Well, I needed a new fucking PAK, that was sure. It could survive overheated for a while, but then my options would run slim. I felt it starting to take effect already. My mind went crazy, and flashes came at me from all directions. From the time I couldn't remember. From the week I'd been human. From various times on Earth, and back on the _Massive,_ then back to Earth and that week, and that house, and that girl—

"Goddammit," I found myself whispering, clutching at my head as I slid to the ground in an empty hallway. I hissed out a breath and drew it back in, visions from everything flashing like mad behind my closed eyelids. "God_dammit._ What the hell do I want?"

I was so close to something. So close to many things. To being part of something incredible in the Empire. To figuring out Tak's ulterior motives. To breaking myself down and succumbing to my latent human conscience.

With my PAK overheating, there was no way I'd be able to swing a secret trip to Earth now. I needed time for repair. Which also, unfortunately, meant time to reflect. Time to question myself again. Time to stop hiding certain truths from myself.

And to concede that, what I really wanted from Tak, all this time, was another chance in her little machine.

– – –


	20. Swollen Eyeball 4: Alea Jacta Est

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**Author's Note:**

_Invader Zim_ is -c- Jhonen Vasquez! Only the events of this story, characters specific to the story, and character tweaking (heh) are mine. :3

~Jizena~

– – –

– – –

Quick extra note, if you missed my added note in the last Dib chapter: I made an editing error on Agent Cthulhu's real name. I had meant for his name to be _Federico,_ not _Sergio._ Fun fact: Sergio Trujillo is a Broadway dancer and choreographer. As a theatre person, I look at his name all the time, and therefore totally saw nothing wrong with it on my edit of that last chapter… sooooo, oops. XD Way to destroy my own character, eh? ^^;; But from now on, I'll be keeping an extra-close eye to make sure Federico/Cthulhu is given his proper name. :3

Aaaand, this chapter is totally a testament to my love for coming up with names, however infrequently they may end up being used in the future. :3 I'm such a name and language whore.

– – –

_ Dib's Records_

Surprising as it was to me that the members of the Network (and not just the Board) accepted the fact that I had Meekrob powers, I couldn't say I wasn't grateful for that fact. It meant that I didn't have to train in secret anymore, for one thing. Sometimes I would even let Charlotte watch my training sessions with Nacea, but she was the only one I ever invited, since she was my spokeswoman and I trusted her like a part of the family. The weird, atypical family I was collecting for myself, anyway.

As for trusting Nacea like a part of the family, I was starting to fear that she was becoming more than that. During one training session in particular, I almost lost myself. I blamed it all on adolescence. I'd had a terrible family life and a less than ideal childhood in general, my own sister was a little distant (close as we claimed we were), so of course, I kept telling myself, I'd be subconsciously searching for something—someone—that made me feel more wanted. Being the age that I was, of course I'd have stupidly raging hormones that told me I was actually _in love,_ but who was I to second guess?

Nobody had watched that session. Tenn wasn't even around. Tenn preferred training in utter privacy, anyway... a very pridefully but understandably Irken quality of hers. Even though it was a nice day, Nacea and I trained in the section of the training hall that was equipped as a dojo (which, I later found out, was Brakem's request, since he'd trained as a young man in _jujitsu_ and _ba guo)._ "Shouldn't we train outside if I'm expelling energy?" I asked Nacea.

She shook her head. "This is a test of control," she told me, her voice light as air, as always. "We Meekrob train inside our buildings once our teachers deem us ready. If you use your ability properly, you will not harm anything other than your target." She pointed to a row of literal wooden targets she had set up on posts near the back wall. "You are going to destroy a target, and then you are going to mend it to test your healing prowess."

"Oh. Huh. And if I miss?"

"Then you will have to rebuild the wall," Nacea said with a light laugh.

She may have thought it was funny, but I didn't, and I became quite nervous before I found my center and forced myself to breathe and relax. I'd become quite good at gathering, holding, and expelling energy, I had to admit. Healing was still a bit tough. To heal, one has to tap into the inner energy of the target, and that was especially hard on a nonliving thing. I didn't do too badly during that session; I scorched the back wall a little bit, but I just moved Brakem's weapons rack over to cover up the blackened spot so nobody would notice.

After the session, Nacea and I stayed in the dojo a while longer, just to talk. The dojo didn't have a door, really, just a cut-away wall. That was due partly to Brakem's impatience with the builders (who also worked exclusively for the Network and who lived in the dormitory building that Cthulhu and Bloodrose watched over) and partly due to logical design. The cut-away did have stone steps leading up to the main section of the dojo, as well as a sunken part at the stairs where people could remove and change their shoes, if they wished. There were stairs at the back of the large room, leading down into the lower-level weight-training rooms and running track (which I didn't really visit much myself, since that was Brakem's realm, and I was getting plenty of training on my own).

We sat to the right of the steps, her legs dangling over the edge of the cut-away, while my feet just barely touched the ground, as the dojo was built up on wooden braces. (I had no idea how this would affect the place when it would start to snow, but I didn't bother myself with that at the moment.) For a while, we just talked about how I'd come along in my training, and then that moved into talking about my sister.

"Gaz doesn't want to fight," I had to tell Nacea, who had offered to talk to Gaz about giving her Meekrob powers as well. "I know she doesn't. She knows it's inevitable, but until she has to, she won't. She's good enough on her own anyway, she picks things up from video games and films as if she had an actual teacher or _sifu_ or whatever."

_"Sifu?"_ Nacea wondered, looking up at me with crystal blue eyes full of curiosity.

"It's Chinese," I explained. "I only know because Brakem makes reference to his _ba guo sifu._ It's what Chinese martial artists call their teachers, I guess."

"Oh." Nacea looked down at her bare feet, twining them together and then pointing her toes to brush through the grass beneath us. "Does your sister still hate me?"

I sighed. "Nacea, I don't know," I replied honestly. "I don't know if it's actual dislike or just her annoyance toward me. She and I are really close as brother and sister, but ever since I've invited you and Tenn to stay with us, she acts like I'm trying to replace her or something."

"I certainly do not want to be a bother," Nacea told me.

"Don't worry, it's just—" I shut myself up.

"Just what?"

I held her gaze for a second. Even though she looked quite young, about twelve or thirteen (hell, _I_ was thirteen!), she was much more mature than I gave her credit for. After all, I had no idea how old she really was, in Meekrob years. I knew she was technically an adult, but she fit a smaller human form for two reasons: first, since Meekrob themselves are very small, and second, because she had the curiosity of a human child, being so new to everything Earth had to offer. Nonetheless, I couldn't suppress an indisputable fact... I thought she was, well, attractive. Cute, maybe. I was no good with words like that. I was too used to girls avoiding me to have paid much attention before to their looks or my preferences. I had had a thing for Tak, that much was certain and grossly unavoidable. Nacea's inquisitiveness helped. I was more attracted to intelligence than anything else.

"My sister thinks that I like you," I said, feeling embarrassed immediately because my voice cracked. I cleared my throat and looked away.

"Do you not like me?" Nacea wondered.

"No, no, I do," I assured her, making myself look at her again, "but I mean... Gaz thinks that I... _like_ you. That I like you as more than a friend."

"Oh. Oh!" Nacea smiled. "You mean that she thinks we are engaged in a loving partnership."

How'd she get that so quickly? "Um... yeah. Yeah, exactly."

Nacea tucked her long, silver hair behind her right ear, then turned to face me completely, crossing her legs and sitting completely on the floor of the dojo. I turned as well, mimicking her position, and bent over my legs a little, resting my elbows on my knees. Nacea leaned in to speak to me. "You do not want to be," she assumed.

"It isn't that I don't want to, it's that I can't," I explained to her, as I'd told myself and my sister so many times. "For Gaz's sake, I just can't. I can't make her feel neglected like that."

"So you do not _like_ me," Nacea deduced. She didn't look sad, or put off at all. If anything, she just looked like she was still collecting information. Though slightly more inquisitive than usual.

I sighed, my heart pounding. "No... Nacea, listen... I think I do," I said, "but I'm just really confused. I'm at a really weird spot in my life. I'm new to this job, I'm trying to step up as sort of the head of the household, so to speak, and I just... really don't have time right now to let myself get into anything. I don't want to develop anything with anyone yet."

Nacea smiled sweetly, and set her hands on mine. "I like you as well, Dib," she admitted, "but we may not be right in chemistry."

"Yeah?"

"Mmhmm." She nodded. "If you were a Meekrob, I would choose you right away," she went on, "but you are human, and I am not. If I were human, I might insist, but I try not to insist upon anything, so I certainly do not want to be the cause of anything that would cause you or your sister any discomfort. As long as I am your friend, I am glad to be here."

"Huh..." I smiled a little, then freed my right hand and played with Nacea's hair. Human though she looked, her hair felt much different than it should have. It was as delicate as a string of cobwebs, and had a texture quite like rose petals. Unlike the flowers she so liked to associate herself with, though, Nacea had no thorns. Perhaps I was in love with her perfection, I thought, since my own life was such a mess. "Yeah," I continued, awkwardly pulling my hand away, "I'm just... not ready for anything like this yet."

"You are growing up awfully fast," said Nacea, and this made me shiver a bit, "or so I have heard many of your Board members say."

"You're lucky you're not human," I told her honestly. "Growing up is frightening."

"How so?"

I looked away and shifted again, staring out through the cut-away but still keeping my legs crossed and far up off the ground. Nacea turned with me and inched a little closer. We'd very rarely gotten this close after training sessions, or even during times when we could relax before. Now that I knew she felt something for me, it was understandable, and I knew she was picking things up from me (not to mention that I had just confessed something to her as well).

"I'm thirteen," I began, looking out over the complex. "Thirteen is the worst age a kid can be. Thirteen is the end. Even regular kids, who, y'know, aren't in charge of huge corporations-to-be like this... even for them, this age sucks." My explanation got Nacea to laugh. "This is the time when most kids are getting ready to go into high school, which is four years of studying and studying and then _bam,_ you're in college and an adult. Childhood is over."

Stupidly, my eyes clouded up a bit, but I forced that to stop right away. "Childhood is supposed to be when your parents are there for you, giving you a good life and letting you have fun and explore while you still can." Where were these words coming from? "My mom... left..." I shook my head. I hated thinking about her. "When I was three. Just before I turned four, actually. Almost ten years ago. Then my dad got weird, and Gaz and I were on our own. I didn't even have the time to be a kid and already I'm supposed to be an adult and handle all of this? It's scary, Nacea. You're lucky you don't have to do any of this. You don't have to put up with this shit, any of it."

"I can see why you would not want to be in a committed partnership yet," Nacea said. "We on Meekrob are also close to our parents and other relations. My family is much larger than yours, but we all have many, many relatives. I did not have responsibilities like these, no. I am sorry you are under so much pressure."

"Well, don't worry yourself about it," I said, forcing a smile. "You're not my girlfriend, so don't feel like you have to worry about me."

"But as your friend, I can at least keep you occupied." She lifted her head up high, and when I looked at her, she smiled. "Ah, your friend and your _sifu."_ That got me to laugh, and all of a sudden the mood was brighter. "You will someday have a companion, though," said Nacea, knowingly. "And when you do, you will not mind that childhood is over."

– – –

I could hardly believe how much time had passed since I'd left for Meekrob. Since that time, everything had been moving so fast. Nacea had taught me several things about the elemental powers she'd given me... Tenn was a great help in giving me more and more inside Irken knowledge, and above all else, at such a young age, I'd achieved more than I ever thought I would in my entire life.

Gaz was still against my being leader of the Swollen Eyeball, but she wouldn't say it to me directly. I convinced the other members of the Network to let her stay without doing much work, which she was grateful for, but, again, she never said that out loud.

Since I'd decided that it would be better for me to drop out of school, more and more things seemed to come up within the Network, forcing me to further accept the situation. Teenager or not, I _was_ the head of the strongest underground paranormal society in the world, and Cthulhu (who still would not tell me why he preferred his nickname over his real one), Charlotte, and several other Senior Agents had indeed informed me that it was my predecessor's wish that the Network go public and become a corporation. Richard Dyer, codename Darkbootie, had done all the work for me. I just had to be the face of the new era. Thank God for Charlotte—she handled everything, all of the legal work, all of the fiscal responsibilities.

I spotted a tattoo on Charlotte one day, and she instantly confirmed that Bloodrose (Charlotte slipped and called her by her real name, 'Anita,' only once) had applied it. We were in my office, sorting out paperwork Dyer had left behind, and Charlotte had been randomly explaining the legal aspects of things (files, employment forms, ID verifications, and so on) along the way. Now, my spokeswoman normally wore long-sleeved blazers, and always looked professional (though her spiky blue hair was enough of a deviation from true business casual), but the office got hot once the boxes of papers got heavier and heavier, so she had taken it off to reveal only a blue camisole underneath, and, therefore, her full arms. On her forearm was tattooed the same phrase that Cthulhu had: _"La suerte esta echada."_ On her other arm was tattooed: _"Alea jacta est."_

"What do those mean?" I wondered.

"Hmm?"

"Your tattoos. Cthulhu has one, too."

"Rico? He had them both," said Charlotte. "His Latin one is on his ankle."

"So one's in Spanish, one's Latin?" I guessed. "What do they mean?"

"The same thing," Charlotte smiled. _"The die is cast._ Many of us have this tattoo, from the days of the Organization's founding."

"Huh. Hey, Charlotte," I added.

"Yes, sir?" I shot her a glare. "Dib," she sighed.

"Why did you use Cthulhu and Bloodrose's real names?"

"Rico and Anita? Why not?"

"They told me not to."

Charlotte paused in her work, and regarded me oddly through her rose-tinted lenses. Then, a smile ghosted its way across her face, and she set about her work again. "Ah," she remarked. "That makes sense."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, _why?"_ I demanded.

"They only asked _you_ not to call them by name."

"A leader thing?" I groaned. "How old are they, forty? They can get over it."

Charlotte laughed, but quickly quieted herself. "You have a firey temper, there, Dib," she noted. "But, I suppose you could say, yes, it is in the vein of their slight discomfort with you being the SEO leader."

I felt a sting in my chest. "Well, I mean, honestly, I can see either you or Cthulhu doing a better job, anyway," I admitted.

"Nonsense. We need you."

And that was that.

Much of the rest of that afternoon was spent getting things ready for visiting members. We had been expecting representatives from the London branch, two experts both by the last name of Haynsworth, of whom I yet knew nothing other than the fact that they were our allies, but as word spread around about the soon-to-be-Corporation having a new leader, other countries with SEO branches or sister organizations had begun calling about sending representatives over. It was also good news for the army, since everyone making the effort to take the trip was also willing to fight for Earth.

Gaz remained apathetic. I didn't care, as long as she was around, and being supportive in her own way. I made no attempts to even so much as call my father. Not even to ask him how or why he'd known who Charlotte was. Sure, I'd written that note before I left, out of a tiny bit of guilt, but at present I had no desire to talk to him at all. Whether or not Gaz was keeping in touch with him was none of my concern.

As far as I was concerned at that point, I had no parents. No one but my sister and close friends. They were all the family I cared about anymore.

My outburst back home still bothered me sometimes, though. I'd said horrible things. I'd cut myself off from that house. Sure, the SEO easily felt like a real home to me, but every once in a while, I'd wake up and be confused as to where I was. Usually, things around the complex snapped me out of my bad moods whenever I was thinking about what I'd said to my father. There was so much going on, I was kept pleasantly busy.

On one such day, Cthulhu approached me and informed me that his wife had made her arrangements, and that she needed me.

"What for?" I wondered.

Cthulhu rolled up the sleeve of his jacket to reveal the last word on his tattoo. "You know that Charlotte has one of these, as well?" he guessed.

"...Yeah..?"

"So does Brakem. Richard Dyer was tattooed as well," he went on, "though differently. More like his predecessor. You need to follow suit."

"I have to _what?"_ I exclaimed, backing away from Cthulhu, giving him a strange look.

"Sir, it's ritual," Cthulhu tried calmly.

"Since _when?"_ I shot back. _Hell, no,_ I thought.

"Since our first leaders," Cthulhu said impatiently. "Sir, you've accepted your position, and now you have to undergo this one simple ritual to prove your devotion to the Network."

"It's going to be _Corporation_ soon," I spat, "and I can change ritual, can't I?"

"Sir..."

"Oh, my God, stop calling me 'sir,' Cthulhu, it's infuriating!" I shouted.

The large man looked momentarily nonplussed, and eased up. I glanced at his exposed forearm again. A tattoo, huh? Branding me to the network, branding me as the forerunner of the new, the first, the greatest public, government-aided nonprofit paranormal corporation?

Wouldn't Dad just _love_ that.

I sighed. "Fine," I gave in. "It's not the end of the world. Yet," I added, referring to the Invasion.

Cthulhu either didn't get the joke or didn't care. I'm resting with the latter. Reluctantly, I followed him into the room where Bloodrose was waiting to perform this 'ritual.' Strange ritual if you ask me. I'd heard of people being this loyal to their organizations before, but I never thought that _I personally_ would ever go through with something like this. I had never planned on doing anything like this to myself. Especially not at age thirteen. I had very few options, though, and permanently pressing into my skin a lovingly symbolic _fuck you_ to my father was fantastic.

"You're not too sensitive to needles are you?" Bloodrose asked after I formally greeted her. She laughed a little after the statement; I didn't know whether or not to be nervous. "Or pain in general?" she added.

"I can hold my own," I replied firmly. "I just don't know what to expect, that's all."

Bloodrose smiled.

"Take off your shirt and lie down," she instructed.

_"WHAT?"_ I yelped.

"Take off your shirt and—"

"No, no, I heard you, but—"

"It's going on your stomach," Bloodrose clarified. Laughing again, she added, "I wouldn't take advantage of you, sir; I'm married."

_That doesn't stop SOME sick fucks,_ I snarled to myself.

I sighed and, once again doing something utterly reluctant, removed my trench coat and pulled off my shirt, tossing both garments to the side. "Please, stop calling me 'sir,'" I groaned. "I'm a kid. It's weird."

"If I were to give you my honest opinion," said Bloodrose as I sat down on the table or whatever it was she had prepared, "I would never think you were only thirteen." She looked me up and down, flashed me a smile, then turned back to the tools she had been getting ready.

"What makes you say that?" I wondered. "Is it my height?" I asked, tired of the constant reminders of how tall I was for someone my age.

"There's that," Bloodrose admitted, "plus, you're very mature for a thirteen-year-old. You fit your title well, Dib. You shouldn't be embarrassed that many of us slip and call you 'sir.' It's a natural and respectful substitute for a name, you know."

I could feel myself going red; I cleared my throat and downcast my gaze. This was all too weird for me to digest. Everything was happening much too fast.

"Out of curiosity," I asked her, "how old would you say I am right now?"

"I don't know," Bloodrose shrugged, turning back to me, needle in hand. "Around fifteen, maybe. It could very well be your height; or maybe your shoulders." Grinning, she added, "Or just your kind expression, sir."

"My expression?"

"That's right. You don't convey to the outside world that you're still technically a child," said Bloodrose. "You look and act just a little older. Lie down, please."

I shuddered, knowing what was about to come, then gave in and lay flat on my back, my hands clenched into fists.

"Do I really act older?" I wondered accidentally out loud. I thought back to my conversation with Nacea, and how I had spilled my fears to her. My fears of growing up, the painful truth that I had had no real childhood, the path that was being carved out in front of me, molding me into an adult well before I should have been worrying about anything so serious.

The thing that scared me most was how much I, as much as I hated to admit it, resembled my father. I tried so hard to be different, but when it came down to it, we both had a couple of painfully similar qualities. Stubbornness was the overarching one. Stubbornness that led to obsession. Dad was obsessed with his work, and I was overly indulged with mine. Yes, we were on very different paths, but the possibility was still there. I could very well become just as drowned in my own studies as he always had been. No matter what, I told myself, that was not going to happen. I was not going to become my father. I was not going to become that self-involved, that negligent, that evasive. Never.

"Not much, but it's true," Bloodrose let me know. She pulled up a stool and sat to my right, lightly touching a hand to my skin a little above the stomach area, on the right side. "In my opinion, you do so simply because you're such a good leader." Smiling, she continued, saying, "You really look after us, even though you're so newly anointed; I'm proud to work for you."

"Thanks?" I tried.

She grinned. "Try not to be so tense, sir," she warned. "It won't be too bad if you just keep your mind on something else." My heart beating a million times a minute, I heaved out a sigh and forced myself to relax as Bloodrose prepared the area for the tattoo. "It's not even that big an emblem," she went on, speaking casually. "It's not like you're getting _yakuza_ tattoos or anything," she snickered.

"Funny," I snorted. She'd just succeeded in making me even more nervous, for some strange reason.

"Here we go... all set?"

"Just get it over with."

I wanted to hold my breath, but I forced myself to breathe. If I didn't for the first two seconds, I told myself, I might not breathe at all through the whole thing, and _that_ would be bad. I closed my eyes, repeating to myself over and over, _Relax, relax, relax._

The needle pierced my skin.

"FUCK!" I shouted, my eyes snapping open again. Every expletive I knew started running through my head. I suppose I was pretty lucky that my mouth couldn't keep up.

_—_

"Not so bad, huh?" Bloodrose asked me calmly.

"No questions, just don't mess up," I pleaded, my voice a little strained due to my obvious nervousness.

"Breathe and relax, sir."

_SHE WANTS ME TO FUCKING RELAX? ONCE THIS IS OVER I'LL SHOW HER HOW TO FUCKING RELAX! BITCH! GODDAMMIT!_

I gripped the side of the table with my left hand, not wanting to do anything on my right side for fear of the needle going off-center. The pain actually wasn't as bad as I thought it would be, but the idea that, at only thirteen, I was being pretty much branded for the rest of my life.

To make things worse, I was still experiencing growing pains, and this just added to my current discomfort. A headache developed quickly, and I concluded that another inch would be tacked onto my height pretty soon. At almost fourteen, I stood at almost 5'6". It was scary.

I counted every single minute that went by as Bloodrose meticulously went through the process. On that part of my skin, I felt like I was burning, and I dreaded breathing, for fear that a fire might start.

"Finishing touches, sir," Bloodrose announced after what felt like a day and a half.

"Sweet Jesus..." I muttered, running my left hand through my hair. I felt sweat on my forehead. I also noticed that my hair, due to neglect, had gotten pretty long over the past three years. I hadn't touched it at all... just let it grow out. The change was pretty nice, though; I was starting to like wearing it messy.

Bloodrose touched something cool to the skin surrounding the tattoo. It felt pretty tender, and I winced a bit.

"The area might feel a bit sore, but that's to be expected," Bloodrose explained. "You may want to keep your shirt off for a bit, too, sir. The cloth might irritate."

"Don't have to tell me twice," I groaned, sitting up. I looked down and saw, for the first time, the tattoo of our Network's emblem, the deep blue looking a little more vibrant than I was sure it would in a few days' time due to the fresh ink. "Do I have to show this to anyone?" I wondered. "Do I have to prove anything, or something like that?"

"No, sir," Bloodrose assured me. "On your way back to your room, which is where I'm sure you'll be going now, some may happen to see that you've had this done, but aside from that, there's nothing you have to do. It will become common knowledge that you've fully accepted your position."

"Thanks," I managed to say, sliding off the table. I winced a little, but told myself not to touch the sore area.

Nodding to Bloodrose, I gathered up my shirt and trench coat and got ready to leave. Before I could go anywhere, though, I had to ask the itching, nagging question: "Bloodrose?" I wondered.

"Yes?"

I looked the woman right in the eyes and asked, "Why don't you want me to call you 'Anita?'"

Bloodrose recoiled, and looked almost hurt, or possibly angry. Quickly, she set about organizing things—papers, tools, piles of sketches. "I prefer my nickname," she said dismissively. "So does my husband."

"But Charlotte still calls you by name," I pointed out. "She even nicknames your husband 'Rico.' Why just me, Bloodrose? Do I make you uncomfortable?"

She continued messing with things, at her desk, then laid her palms down flat on the tabletop, leaned over, and heaved a sigh. I noticed, across her back—as she once again was wearing a black tank top—the words _"Alea jacta est."_ "Our reasoning is nothing that you would understand yet, Dib," she said, making my heart skip. "Rest assured that it's for good reason. Please. For now, let that be enough."

My eyes narrowed. "You realize that just makes me more suspicious," I warned.

"I understand. You'll learn soon enough. I'm very sorry for all of the things we still want to keep secret."

"All of?" I wrinkled up my nose in distaste. "How many things are you and the other Senior Agents keeping from me?"

"Please, Dib," she tried again, still not looking at me. "Sir. Keep yourself focused on the switch to becoming a corporation. You have too many things to work on now. Don't worry about our little quirks. They're not important. What is important is that you remain a good leader, which, I assure you, you are. Let's just get through the spring. You'll be inundated with answers soon enough."

I drew in a deep breath, ready to ask more, to demand more, but I let the breath out and relented instead. Bloodrose was right. I had too many things to think about now. I'd been at the complex for a good amount of time now... I knew the new developments, I knew that, come spring, we would be playing host to several international agents and consulates. All I should have been focusing on was how to put my best foot forward in front of them.

That, and try to get some intel on Zim and Tak. Their little attack was the whole reason for any of this.

Wanting to leave the room on a pleasant note, I glanced around Bloodrose's studio. The walls were plastered with sketches. Several were tattoo designs. Others were full, detailed sketches from biological study of cryptozoological specimens. Bloodrose had a steady, well-informed hand.

"You're very talented," I complimented her as I made for the door. "Keep up the good work."

"Thank you, sir," she said in a soft, almost inaudible, voice.

I let the conversation end there. With days flowing into weeks so quickly lately, I had to believe that I would learn more soon enough.

Walking around without a shirt on felt pretty good, to be honest. If it wasn't so horribly strange, I probably would have done it more often after that day. _Holy shit..._ I thought to myself,_ I've just been fucking branded..._

I shoved the thought from my mind and held my head up.

_I can't think like that,_ I told myself,_ not anymore. I've seen how much everyone respects me; I've seen how much some people really look up to me. It's time to start being the leader they so rightfully deserve._

As I was walking back to my main room, I happened to pass Charlotte in the hall.

"Hello," I greeted, smiling almost unintentionally.

"H-Hello," she greeted back, stunned. "Sir, what are you doing, walking around like—"

"Nothing to worry about," I assured her, meeting her gaze with the softest expression I could manage.

"Ah, I see now," she grinned. She clapped a hand on my shoulder as she continued to pass by. "I can't tell you how happy this makes me, sir," she beamed.

I just smiled in return, then continued walking down the corridor.

A couple other Board members passed me on the way and expressed similar feelings, one even admitting to admiring me for being a great leader. That comment had me wondering all the way back to the sitting room near my bedroom and office; thoughts along the lines of _My God... they really do respect me, don't they?_

Gaz stepped up to me as I entered the sitting room.

"Dib," she began, "I just have to ask you s—HOLY HELL WHAT ON EARTH DID YOU DO TO YOURSELF?"

I couldn't help laughing. Tossing my shirt and trench coat to the side, I asked, "So, what do you think?"

"What do I _think?"_ she repeated, flabbergasted. "I think you're crazy! I've always thought that, but now I know! Dib, what the hell is that?"

"Just something else to show that I've accepted my position as leader of the Corporation," I answered smoothly.

"You've been leader for a few months," Gaz snorted. "Haven't you proved it enough? And it's not a Corporation yet."

"We'll be a Corporation by the time you're thirteen," I corrected.

Gaz raised an eyebrow and looked at me skeptically. "What... the... _fuck,_ Dib?" she growled at me. "You're acting like you're five years older than I am!"

"Well, maybe, given the circumstances, I should," I replied, brushing past her to the kitchen. "I'm making tea," I announced.

"That... _thing_ has gone to your head, Dib!" Gaz shouted at me, ignoring the previous statement. I filled the black kettle with water and turned the electric burner on to boil it. "You disgust me! What's going on? You're thirteen, Dib, not twenty-three!"

"I know," I said calmly, getting out a box of tea bags. "All I'm saying is, well..." With a sigh, I set the box down and rejoined my sister in the sitting room. Placing both hands on her shoulders, I smiled down at her and continued, "It's really hitting me now, that I'm the leader of all this. You've got to understand, Gaz, I have responsibilities that sometimes seem too much for me to handle. The future of the Corporation is depending on me, and in order to do all that I'm sure I can, I have to... well..."

"Grow up?" Gaz offered almost sadly.

Squeezing her shoulders, I agreed, "Yeah."

"Fuck, Dib," Gaz said randomly, looking up at me.

"What?" I wondered.

"I know you're tired of hearing this," said Gaz, "but, Goddammit, Dib, you're tall."

"Yeah," I sighed, "I know." I smiled again, trying to get onto a lighter subject (and trying to ignore the discomfort coming from the area where I'd just been tattooed), then asked, "You want some tea?"

"Sure," my sister said, "why not?"

– – –

Days flowed into weeks. The complex was building up, and before I knew it, the foreign agents were scheduled to arrive. I'd done my research; I knew each country that was being represented, I'd read up on myths from the various represented regions.

I did not, however, hear a damn thing from the Irkens.

Tenn had, ever since we'd come to the SEO complex, been discreetly spying on Irken radio waves for me. She knew the right frequencies, and would sometimes camp out in my Spittle Runner for a couple of days just to take notes.

But nothing.

It was discouraging to both of us, to the point that sometimes we would spar just to work out stress. Through those little stress-release sessions, I picked up on some Irken fighting styles from Tenn, who more often than not kicked my ass. Sometimes, I dismissed my losses as having gone easy on her, since, you know, no, I didn't want to hit a girl, especially one who was a friend. In the back of my mind, I kept waiting for Tenn to reveal some ulterior, oh-so-Irken motive for helping me out so much, but none came. She really was just pissed at the Tallest, and apathetic toward modern Irken politics and extremities. Tenn was on our side, no doubt about it. But it really was infuriating that we picked up nothing from Zim and Tak.

This could have been due to a few factors. One being Zim's disorganization. The other being Tak's penchant for drawing things out and skirting around things in order to have the upper hand.

That, and her awful knack for lying.

Both of them were rotten liars. Which was why I had to keep on my toes.

The impending arrival of the foreign agents turned my attention for a while, though, and many days, I found myself doing exactly what I hadn't wanted to do. I holed myself up in my office and poured over papers. Files, really. Files upon files of IDs, sorting out who these people were, and their reasons for coming to America to help. I was only given names and titles. No ages, no photos. That was fine, though. Once they were here, I'd ID the hell out of them, and set up Cthulhu and Kappa as filters. They'd know if anyone who wasn't genuine was trying to sneak through into the organization.

The whole thing had changed so much. The London reps had been set to arrive much earlier, but Charlotte had pushed back the date, to ensure that everyone from abroad was arriving at the same time. She informed everyone to travel through different airports, and she arranged for ground transportations from there. Some were landing several states away, and would take trains closer. Ultimately, everyone was to be escorted to the complex by car.

Bloodrose and Nessie saw to dorm securities, making sure that everyone had places to stay. Charlotte hinted, however, that there would be a couple that would end up being in the main building with us. I was too busy working on how I sounded giving a speech _(you_ try being a thirteen-year-old boy and giving a welcome speech to a bunch of professional paranormal agents, most of whom were bi- or multi-lingual) to care to ask her who and why.

And then it came.

They came.

In droves. Okay, maybe not _droves,_ but it felt like that to me.

The conference hall was more or less completed by that point. Noon on a Thursday, to be exact. On the cusp of spring. I'd barely slept the night before. In fact, I awoke to Gaz pounding on my office door at around six a.m., yelling that my alarm had been going off for half an hour and would I turn it off already.

Groggily, I gathered my things, showered, dressed—still in my trench coat, since habit was hard to break, and I was not about to wear a friggin' blazer or anything, ugh—and crept to the conference hall, where I practiced my speech (which Charlotte had helped me write, thank God) to the empty room. Once I'd delivered it a couple of times, I retreated to the AV room behind the stage and turned on the security cameras. The conference hall was quite large, and members had set up auditorium-style seating for our guests and current Agents in the stage area. Before entering to that part, however, there was a large front lobby, where the visitors were sure to congregate prior to the welcome.

Maybe it was weird, but I trained the cameras on the lobby, where Cthulhu and Kappa were already in place to triple-check documents and weed out anyone who should not have been there. Brakem and a sparse squad were standing by. I figured, checking up on the new arrivals prior to the meeting was understandable. I wanted to try to figure out who was visiting from which country. Sure, I was meant to have one-on-one meetings (or, one-on-two, since they were all traveling in pairs) after the meeting, in the Board room back in the main building, but the faster I learned names and faces, the more easily I'd know my new allies.

When the first pair stepped in, my heart fluttered with excitement.

At the same time, though, I felt... small. The first to arrive were the Chariman and Co-Chair of the French branch in Lyon. I double-checked their file. Mathieu de Garmeaux and Emma Labelle de Garmeaux. Husband and wife. Had to be. They looked to be in their early or mid-forties, and were the epitome of professional. They were both exceptionally dressed; he had two pins in his lapel, one bearing the symbol of the Network (and my right hand instantly fluttered to my side, where I felt a little twinge from the area around my tattoo), and one depicting the French flag (hence how I easily figured out who they were). The two exchanged pleasantries (which I could not hear, as I had the audio off) with Cthulhu, then stood off to the side to converse with one another. They stood so straight and tall, were so sure of what they were doing and who they were.

The next pair behaved similarly. Thanks again to a flag lapel pin, I was able to identify these two as being Qadir Khouri (a Board representative) and Munira Bahar (a grad school intern) of the Marrakesh, Morocco branch. Even the grad school girl. Both of them were so professional. I felt undignified. Not ready. Not ready at all.

"So," I muttered, feeling more bored than I ever had been, "this is what I've gotten myself into. Just great."

I punched the mouse, converting the image into color as the rest arrived in a herd. "Look at all of them," I complained. "How am I their leader? Thirteen years old and I'm in charge of all this? Maybe Gaz was right. Maybe I am crazy." _As evidenced by the fact that I still talk to myself all the time,_ I added in my head.

Everyone arriving was expecting me to lead them. Tell them about the transition from Network to Corporation. Tell them about the Irkens, about the Invasion. And I wanted to tell them. I had to. I just hoped I wouldn't pass out onstage, or, worse, in one of the private meetings. "South Korea," I muttered, keeping myself occupied by zooming in on pairs around the room. "Brazil. Japan." I yawned, and wished I'd made tea to help myself wake up. "Russia. England..."

I hesitated on the last one when I saw who was representing the London branch. These were the two we had been expecting this whole time. As far as I was concerned, they were most likely the most invested, since they'd shown the first interest. I consulted my folder quickly, looking for the names. "Victor and Alexandria Haynsworth," I read. "Specialty: Vampires, Lycanthropes." I zoomed in on the two. "And here I was expecting husband and wife," I said to myself, looking at the girl.

She was very young, possibly close to my own age. Definitely the youngest person there, minus one college student from Japan. All this time, I'd been concerned about my age being a factor in my leadership, but now, seeing this girl, another fear crept up on me. Everyone in that front lobby had offered their services to fight. That meant her. She couldn't have been more than sixteen. The youngest age the regular army let in was eighteen.

Suddenly, I felt cruel.

Yes, the Invasion was most likely growing bigger. It was becoming something serious, and we needed everyone willing to fight on our side. And, sure, I'd been ready to throw myself out there since I was way too young. But sixteen? And coming here with someone who was obviously her father? Or, actually, he was _letting her_ fight?

Dammit. Dammit, dammit. Moral dilemmas. Shit.

"Welcome to America," I whispered. "Hope I don't get you killed."

Out of curiosity for what was going on, I tepidly switched on the audio, hoping the cameras wouldn't emit any sort of signal that let the two know that someone was watching them. They carried on talking as though nothing had happened; I sighed and listened in.

"Why are we here, again?" Alexandria asked her father. She fingered a necklace she was wearing: an ornate Gothic cross. "I'm a _vampire_ hunter. I don't do extraterrestrials." So she was even _reluctant?_ This was making me more nervous than I had to be. Nonetheless, I couldn't stop watching now.

"Nor do I," her father replied, "but I'm sure we'll make the adjustment."

"Well, I don't want to," Alexandria snapped huffily, tossing her sleek brown hair and turning away from her father. "Besides, I've heard things about the leader of all this," she continued.

"And what do you know about me, Miss Haynsworth?" I asked slyly.

"Don't pass judgment, darling," her father reprimanded.

"Oh, I can and I will," she retorted. "I'm standing by the rumors I've heard circulated. Isn't it true that the Professor is _obsessed_ with 'real' science?"

"Alexandria, please!" Victor Haynsworth shot at his daughter, trying to keep his voice down.

"The Professor?" I wondered. "My _dad?"_ I laughed. "God, are _you_ ever confused." I grinned. "Wonder if you'll be surprised."

I stood, turned off the audio, and switched the image back to black and white. "Well," I sighed, "guess it's time for me to make an appearance."

I gathered up my folder and loose files and made my way to the waiting area backstage.

"You're late," Charlotte greeted me, joining me from seemingly nowhere.

"Last-minute preparations," I half-lied. "How are we doing this again?"

Charlotte sighed. "We've gone over this a million times."

"I know," I laughed. "Just messing with you."

"I wish you wouldn't," she groaned. "You work up my nerves, sir."

"And didn't I tell you to stop calling me that?" I asked rhetorically. "When we're not in the Board room, _please_ call me by name."

"Under the circumstances, _sir,"_ Charlotte said without hesitation, "I feel more comfortable addressing you like the leader you rightfully are."

"Rightfully," I repeated, "but am I doing a good job at it?"

In response to that question, Charlotte smiled. "You're doing much better than I thought you would, to be honest," she replied, "and you're doing much better than our former leaders have. Now, if you'll excuse me, I believe we should get started."

– – –

Everything went according to plan. After giving the first speech of my life (not including my announcement that I had become head of the Network), I collapsed backstage and heaved a sigh before returning to the main building, where I was to meet with each pair of representatives individually in the Board room. I took one look into that room and instantly slammed the door shut, heading for my office instead.

"Sir," said Charlotte, at my heels since we'd left the conference hall, "what are you doing?"

"Change of plans," I told her. "That room is too daunting. I'm serious about lifting the secrecy. I want to meet with everyone in my office. It makes more sense."

"I..." Charlotte was ready to fight, a sucker for protocol, but caved. "I understand," she said instead. "I'll make the arrangements and let everyone know. You'll be meeting with Moroccan Agents Khouri and Bahar first, sir."

"Thanks," I managed, entering my office. It really was more personal in there, not to mention brighter. I was eager to meet with all of the representatives, the Haynsworths especially. Everyone else had signed on to help later. England was the first, and I had to know why. With all these secrets milling around me, I wanted an answer to at least _something._

The Moroccans were both very kind, and let me address them by first name. The grad student, Munira Bahar, presented to me a detailed list of the Moroccan endeavors, which her partner, Board rep. Qadir Khouri, went over with great enthusiasm. The Moroccan SEO center was a growing facility, hidden from public view of course, that worked on the preservation of endangered cryptozoological species. They dealt primarily in their geographic region, but had a stunning collection of European and Australian fossils as well. DNA testing was done at their center, and many sister branches around the world sent findings to them for analysis.

The French, the first two I had seen on the monitor back in the conference hall, were indeed husband and wife. Mathieu and Emma de Garmeaux were assets from the get-go, too: not only were they Chair and Co-Chair of the French branch, their specialty was extraterrestrials. They had both spent most of their lives tracking down UFO sightings and uncovering conspiracies therein, setting apart fact from fiction, especially from the World War eras. I noticed that Cthulhu had assigned them a dormitory close to a research lab, which was perfect. I'd have to introduce them to Tenn and Nacea, too, I realized... though slowly was best.

Another Chair and Co-Chair branch were a research pair from Fortaleza, Brazil: Hugo Medeiros and Luísa Cabral were well-versed in South American mythology and demon exorcism. Other exorcists came from Japan. Nobuyuki Ikehara and Shiori Matsuoka, both college-aged Board representatives from Maizuru, Kyoto, presented a stunning case file of successful ghost hunts, exorcisms, and interactions with spirits. The South Koreans, too—a brother/sister pair in their late twenties by the names of Bae Tae-Hyun and Bae Min Hee, from Jinju—were ghost experts, but they also had a long history in the study of sea monsters. The Russians, from our branch in Omsk, were Miroslav Dorokhin (Branch Chairman) and Aksinya Sokoll (head of the Russian SEO branch army), and had a long catalogue of work in the field of ghosts, unexplained land beasts, and, yes, extraterrestrials. Dorokhin and Sokoll were apparently amicable already with the de Garmeaux pair, as they had compared extraterrestrial research in the past.

I felt so, so incredibly small.

I thought I'd been doing well, too, but then the representatives from other countries, all with years of research under their belts, came flocking in and floored me with their tomes of research. What did I have? A bunch of gathered items and an obsessive case file on Irkens.

What the hell was I doing leading this organization, anyway?

Before I could burrow too deeply into existensial quandries, Charlotte knocked and admitted the last pair. And in walked, hopefully, some answers. I stood, as I had for the others, and exchanged a firm handshake with the London Chairman. As he and his daughter took their seats in front of my desk, I awkwardly leafed through the updated file that Charlotte had handed me. It outlined the two thusly:

_London Branch Chairman: Professor Victor James Haynsworth, 42. Degree: Oxford University. Notes: London Branch founder, 1989._

_ London Branch Counsel Representative: Alexandria Wollstonecroft Haynsworth, 16. Degree: Home schooled in light of transfer from secondary academy._

_ Specialties: Vampires, Lycanthropes, English Mythology._

"W-well..." I began, trying to make the transition into a pleasant conversation after I'd taken a seat behind my desk. "It's certainly a pleasure to have experts of your calibur here with us in America. I know I introduced myself before, but I'd like to again, as we are in a less formal setting. My name is Dib Membrane."

"Victor Haynsworth," the Professor introduced, smiling.

Professor Haynsworth was a man who seemed to have seen his share of battles, and was very worldly wise. As it continued to detail in his profile, he was indeed a university professor, but the title 'Professor,' as was also my father's case, also acknowledged that he was very experienced in a specific field of science. In his case, parascience.

Dressed in business casual, he carried himself with an air of royalty, almost, and was always smiling. His eyes matched his daughter's in a light green; his short hair was greying brown, and he had a very thin, stubbly beard that seemed to add to his refined look. Somehow... and I wasn't sure exactly... he reminded me of my own father.

"It struck me as odd that your last name is 'Membrane,' sir," he said, "if I may—"

"Oh come _off_ it, Daddy, he's _decades_ your junior," Alexandria scoffed. "I'm not going to call him 'sir,' and neither should you! That's a title reserved for men such as yourself... experienced with the world! Not a _child_ posing as a corporate leader!" To me, she added, "You sicken me."

"Alexandria..." Professor Haynsworth reprimanded. "I know you may not like it, but at least introduce yourself properly."

Alexandria snarled, then looked across the table at me and said, "It's _so_ nice to meet you, Professor Membrane. I'm Alexandria Haynsworth. If you've any problem with my age in terms of experience, my profile should speak for itself. And if you don't believe me, I'll kill you."

"I'll keep that in mind, Miss Haynsworth," I said, holding back my impulse to laugh. "Thank you." _Well,_ I thought to myself, _maybe I've just found someone who could even out-bitch Gaz..._ Not that I thought Alexandria was _bitchy,_ particularly, she just... could have been a little nicer. And thus more questions arose.

"And by the way, I'm not the Professor," I said.

"A relative?" Professor Haynsworth guessed, rather smoothly.

"Yes," I answered.

Professor Haynsworth's green eyes softened, and he seemed lost in thought for a moment. His smile stayed on. "Forgive me, we both mistook you. We were informed only of the last name."

"That's all right," I said. "It's not a common last name."

"Indeed!" Alexandria said. "If you're his relative, then of course you would know that Professor Charles Membrane actually _changed _his n—"

"Lex! That's quite enough, thank you!" her father interrupted.

"I-in any case," I said, trying to change the subject. "Tell me a little about yourselves. It isn't every day we have the privelage of working with professionals such as the two of you. Professor, is it true you're employed at Oxford University?"

"I was for a time," Professor Haynsworth admitted. "I've also taught at American and Irish universities, usually covering Medieval literature."

"Not science?"

"Unlike several of my colleagues," the Professor said, rather mournfully, "I've chosen not to resign myself to the realm of 'real' sciences when dealing with the 'real' world."

Something was bothering me. As much as I wanted to keep the subject off of my father, I had to ask, "Colleagues? Are you an acquaintance of Professor Membrane?"

"I was," said the Professor, "long ago."

My heart stung in my chest and sank to my feet, but I remained sitting, back straight, head up. I was sure I was staring holes into Professor Haynsworth, who had instantly become a point of fascination to me. He was a much more approachable man than the hard-to-read Cthulhu (let alone the other Senior Agents), and this confession was—well, life-changing. A colleague of my dad's. A _colleague,_ he'd said.

What the hell?

"How?" I demanded.

"I'm sorry?"

"How do you know him?" I asked. Now I was being a little bitchy myself, actually. I had no right to judge the Professor's daughter. There was information I wanted, and, dammit, I wanted it now. "Professor Membrane is a very solitary man."

"He wasn't always," Professor Haynsworth confided.

"And you've reprimanded me!" Alexandria gasped. "Daddy, you made it _quite_ clear to me that—"

"But I suppose you're dying to know more about my darling Lex, here, aren't you?" the Professor asked me, changing the subject.

"Daddy, what—"

"As a matter of fact, I would like to talk to you, Miss Haynsworth," I said as kindly as I could. I'd catch the Professor in conversation soon enough. I had to know what was eating his daughter.

Alexandria stared me down, then went a little red and said, "You're four years younger than me. I'm not going to be taking orders from you. By Network law, I am an adult, and I refuse to take orders from a child." _Three years younger,_ I wanted to correct her.

"I'm not asking you to listen to me, Miss Haynsworth," I said. "I'm merely asking that you understand."

"What's to understand?" She stood up to leave. "And you call yourself a relative of Professor Membrane! You don't know anything. I'm a vampire hunter, all right? I'm not going to go on your _crazed_ alien hunt! You Americans and your aliens! I don't _care_ about Roswell! I don't _care_ about CIA coverups! I only care about the study and preservation of that which is concerned with the undead and the twice-cursed! Good afternoon, _sir."_ With that, she left the conference room.

Professor Haynsworth sighed. "You'll have to excuse Lex," he said to me. "I truly am sorry. She hasn't been herself recently, I'm afraid, and the news that Professor Membrane himself was not to be greeting us, well, we both took that the wrong way. If I had known that it was you in charge of the Network, rather than your father, I would have better prepared her for this."

I stood at that moment, more nervous than anything. "I never said that I was his son," I said gravely. Professor Haynsworth was momentarily taken aback, suddenly realizing his mistake. "How do you know my father? You said you were colleagues once, and yet you say you've never dealt in the realm of real science. My father hates the paranormal. How could you, or anyone," I added, remembering that Dad and Charlotte had a connection somehow, "possibly know my father on a personal basis?"

Professor Haynsworth kept calm, standing and putting his hands in his pockets, looking ready to leave. "I knew your father well, this is true," he said. "I knew him during his younger years, before he married. Our paths crossed academically as young men. That is all I can say now."

Classmates? Colleagues? My father _spoke to someone?_ Jeez, who _was_ this guy? Shaking, I bit back the urge to scream, and asked, "You said before he was married. Did... did you know my mother..?" _Forbidden territory, Dib. Watch what you ask..._

"I did." I decided that I liked and feared Professor Haynsworth all at once. Yes, he was more approachable, but he, too, seemed intent on being cryptic. "She was a lovely person."

"Wait!" I blurt out before he could leave. "Did my father... did he change his name?"

"Pardon me?"

"Your daughter... she said that Professor Membrane changed his name. Is this true?"

Professor Haynsworth was silent for a moment, then said, "Yes. Charles changed his name to Membrane after..." He stopped himself and grinned. "I should not be the one telling you this. My apologies."

I forced a smile of my own. "That's all right, Professor," I said. "If it's all right with you, though, I would like to continue talking to you, more personally, at some point."

"At some point, yes," he agreed. "At some point, everything will be told."

Huh. Hooray?

– – –

Figuring out where everyone was going to live was a challenging feat that made speaking at the welcoming ceremony seem like a walk in the park. Each of the on-site dormitories (of which there were four, and future plans for a fifth to be built by the end of 2006), had at least two senior Board members living on the first floor. Cthulhu and Bloodrose managed one of the dormitories, which seemed to be an area for those highly interested in research work, while Brakem and a few others occupied the first floor of the building that housed most of those interested in holding higher ranks in our army. The other two dorms were a little less occupied as of right now, but many people believed that they would fill in soon. With Board members to help the newcomers, the representatives of the foreign branches were scattered between the buildings, housed by floor in area of expertise. The dorms had their own research labs, so not everyone had to necessarily ever come into the main building to work.

In fact, the main building was very comfortably unoccupied, at most times, aside from those living there (which at the time weren't many), so I often felt as though the dorms weren't really there, and the Board members just attended meetings coming and going from wherever they lived. Whenever I needed immediate answers from someone or other, Charlotte did most of the running (she was also the one who did all off-complex errands so that the rest of us could keep a low profile, and even then she used a fake name).

Charlotte was, I must reiterate, really beginning to feel less like a secretary or advisor and more like an aunt to me. She was thirty-eight when I became the Organization leader (so she was around the same age as my father, I guessed; I didn't know Dad's exact age at the time, so I assumed him to be somewhere between thirty-five and forty), and wasn't married, nor did she seem to want to have any romantic relationships, as she was sort of married to her work, but before being a business woman she was just plain nice, and made the complex feel like home.

Charlotte and the Professor acted slightly chummy around one another, suggesting that the two had crossed paths before but weren't necessarily the closest of friends. From the start, Charlotte had advised that Professor Haynsworth be given the second office in the grand hall of the main building, and she had more or less insisted that he and his daughter stay in the rooms on either side of the common area. He had taken the room closest to the front door, leaving two open rooms in our hall (one with a single bed, being the smaller room, and one with two beds). The room situation was a little harder to accomodate for Alexandria, since the girls' wing had less available rooms than ours. With Charlotte and Gaz each occupying a room by themselves, and Nacea and Tenn sharing one, there was one room left, which was terribly small and being used for storage at the moment, leaving us with only one option for her, which was to room with my sister, which wasn't exactly my first choice, considering how Gaz would react.

Attempting to avoid conflict, I approached Alexandria and her father about it first. The Professor liked the idea, saying that his daughter should get used to the living situations as easily and quickly as possible, and that sharing a room with someone could be a good thing for her in order to get adjusted. She, on the other hand, said:

"Absolutely not."

I felt defeated already. We were in my office, the three of us, and what I'd wanted was for her to go into the situation willingly so that she'd be kind to my sister to the point that Gaz would accept. If both of them would be stubborn about it, though, things would be harder on my end.

"Why not?" I wondered. I wasn't sitting behind my desk, since I didn't want to feel like some councelor or something, I wanted things to be open and understanding. "Gaz isn't all that bad." _When she's not super pissed at me or the world or both,_ I added in my head.

"Is this how you greet people at your Organization?" Alexandria snapped. This, I should add, was the day after everyone had arrived. She had stayed in her father's room, on the floor, the Professor had told me, in among her belongings, the night before, but we couldn't let her continue with that, especially since Professor Haynsworth had signed on to stay in America until the war ended, however long that would be. His file read that he was quite a few years divorced, and hadn't remarried, so he didn't appear to be as eager as a married man would have been to get back home. Plus, he had an American citizenship (somehow), and his daughter was there on an international worker's visa. She was wearing a different necklace that day, with a different cross. She wore it for the same reason Charlotte had the single cross earring: to ward off vampires.

Alexandria didn't give off the 'vampire hunter' vibe that most Americans usually did. She didn't dress in the awful tight black standard that most hunters or enthusiasts around here usually wear to signify that they're part of some secret (mostly stupid) underground. (Vampire enthusiasts, to be honest, usually piss me off. It's all a little world full of brooding, industrial music listeners who read too many misinformed fictional novels. Maybe it isn't all like that, but my town seems to get the weird end of most subcultural spectra.) Instead, she was wearing a faded green t-shirt and denim capris, her hair, which reached a little past her shoulderblades, tied back in two thick braids. She would have looked very pretty if she hadn't been scowling at me the whole time.

"No," I tried to explain calmly. "I'm only asking that, if you want to stay in the same building as your father, you to move into the girls' wing. If you want the last room in the hall, that's fine, but it will take a while to clear that out and find another storage space, so until then, I'm asking if you would please concede to staying with my sister until the room becomes available." There, that sounded non-threatening enough, right?

"I can't believe you!" she snapped, standing up at full height. In flat shoes, she was two inches taller than me. Her file read that she was sixteen, with her seventeenth birthday approaching, so she was obviously just mad the day before when she'd yelled about my being four years younger, since the age difference was less. "Asking such a thing of—"

"Lex!" her father snapped, rising as well. He looked just as professional that day as he had the day before. "That's quite enough, thank you." He turned her toward him and placed his hands on her shoulders, leaning in to speak to her. "Everyone here has been nothing if not hospitable since we've arrived, and I know the transition is difficult, but I'm asking you to please understand. I know I've withdrawn you from your normal studies for this, darling, but everything will be for the best. Could you at least give it a try for a few days? It can't be all bad."

"I can't believe I broke up with Jonathan for this," Lex muttered under her breath, looking away. For some reason, my heart jumped. I hadn't considered that... the fact that being on the brink of war (or being in the war, soon enough) would build up or break down relationships so easily. My already bad relationship with my father was worse, Gaz's quick friendship with Zim was already memory (and even I had to admit that that was a little sad, since she'd seemed really happy for a while), and now I heard about this little thing. God forbid I should lose anyone during the war to come, I thought to myself.

Professor Haynsworth sighed. "Please, Lex, don't start," he begged. "You said yourself this would be the better situation for you. Please give it a try. Look at me." She did. "Please."

She bowed her head and chewed her lip. "All right. But only until that single bedroom is cleared out!" she insisted.

I thanked her for understanding, then left to ask Charlotte about possible other storage areas. She was able to think of a few scattered places, and said she'd get to work on cleaning the room out within the next couple of weeks (since she was very busy, she said a few times), then informed me that a Board meeting was in order in the next few minutes, to discuss dormitory regulations (and look at the roster for those that had agreed to train under Brakem) and to have a sort of initiation round for the foreign Board members that had just arrived. Just before leaving with her, I glanced at the calendar, and my heart skipped, realizing what day it was.

April 28th, Gaz's birthday. And I was about to ask her to share her room. Way to go.

– – –


	21. Swollen Eyeball 5: The Box

– – –

**Author's Note:**

_Invader Zim_ is -c- Jhonen Vasquez! Only the events of this story (and the character tweaking, heh) are mine. :3

~Jizena~

– – –

_Gaz's Records_

"I have to _what?"_ I screamed.

"Gaz, until we build upon the dormitories, you need to share your room," Dib explained as calmly as he could.

"No!" I refused. "Absolutely not! I'm not sharing my room with anyone! _Especially_ not some stuck-up bitch!"

"GAZ!"

"WHAT? She is!"

"Gaz, come on..." Dib sighed. "Alexandria isn't my favorite person either, but Nacea and Tenn are already sharing a room and yours has two beds..."

"Have Nacea sleep in your room then!" I yelled, fuming out all of my frustrations. God, I hated how close that Meekrob got to my brother. "You two are close enough!"

"It isn't like that between the two of us!" Dib denied.

"Whatever," I spat. "Dib, this is really asking a lot."

"Well... if you could please think it over?" Dib asked me kindly as his advisor walked in to escort him to his meeting with the foreign Agents.

"Dib, I'm really not in a good mood right now. I don't think anything could _put_ me in a good mood, either. Especially not learning that now my privacy is going to be encroached upon by some whiny Daddy's girl who—"

"That's enough, Gaz," my brother cut in. I let out my breath in a huff and folded my arms.

"Sir?" Ms. Baudelaire prompted.

"Coming," Dib sighed. "Really, Gaz, it's only temporary. You'll only have to share your room with Alexandria for a few months, if not less."

"See you _later,_ Dib."

"By the way," Dib said before joining up with Charlotte and the others, "happy birthday."

"Wh-_what?"_ I gasped, feeling pretty stupid. Had I seriously forgotten my own birthday? Dib smiled at me, then turned away.

I darted back into my room and rushed up to the wall calendar. Yep. April twenty-eighth. "I'm thirteen!" I exclaimed, throwing my arms up into the air. I smiled more brightly than I had in months (which is to say, I smiled at all), and walked over to my bed, my heart pounding. Pulling Zim's sweatshirt around me, I reached over and delicately picked up the mysterious box that I'd found tucked in the sweatshirt pocket three years ago.

_"Gaz, open this in about three years. You'll understand why at the time."_

That's what the note read. I'd read it a million times, even though the message was simple. The note itself was tucked safely inside one of my journals, the third journal chronicling the events of the Time Warp, bookmarking the page onto which I'd copied the words.

I took in a deep breath, then murmured, "Here goes," and lifted the lid off of the small box. Inside, there lay a folded piece of paper; when I lifted it up I noticed yet another box it had been covering.

The folded paper read, _"Read this after you have opened the smaller box... sorry this sounds kind of weird..."_

I laughed a little, and I could feel tears start to form. Seeing Zim's handwriting again made it seem like he was still human. I set the note to the side and took out the smaller box.

"Huh... this looks like a..." I began, awkwardly talking to myself, then choked a bit, running my fingers over the velveteen casing. "Nah," I said, "can't be."

Slowly, I flipped open the lid and immediately gasped. There, on the velvet lining, sat the most beautiful object I have ever laid my eyes on. Tears came to my eyes and I couldn't stop them from falling. I blinked several times, but my eyes were not decieving me. I was holding in my hands a box containing what could very easily be construed as an engagement ring.

"N-no..." I choked out, my hands shaking.

This was too much to process. I had no idea where he could have found it, or what the hell could possibly have been going through Zim's head at the time. Hopefully, his letter would shed more light on the subject, but now I was almost too afraid to read it, the object itself was so stunning.

I dried my eyes and took the ring out of the box, holding it up to the light. The metal wasn't silver, I could tell, but it was similar in appearance; set in diamonds was a smoothly cut stone that I could not identify... it changed colors with the light. "God..." I repeated, not knowing what else to say. I clutched the ring delicately in both hands and held it to my chest. I could feel my heart beating wildly.

After a few moments of wondering what the ring could possibly mean, I looked over at the note and hesitantly picked it up. Before unfolding it, I hesitated, then slid the ring onto my right ring finger. It fit perfectly. I smiled, laughing a little in spite of myself, then unfolded the note carefully, finding that it was comprised of two sheets of paper, and began to read.

_"Gaz,"_ it began. Zim's handwriting was a little more steady and controlled in this note, I noticed, _"I guess now you've figured out why I asked you to wait a few years to open this. I wanted to make sure it would fit. Wow. Writing this, it sounds kinda creepy. Sorry about that."_ I laughed a little and continued reading.

_"That said,"_ the note went on, _"I guess I should start out by saying something of importance. God, my hand is shaking._

_ "My mind is really fuzzy right now. I can hardly remember anything about my past at all. I'm beginning to wonder if any of that is real—about me being one of them. (Irkens: just asked GIR for the name.) I'm trying to write this quickly, because, for all I know, something else could slip away from me, like something important I wanted to say. Anyway, the stone in the center of the ring. I found that in my basement (which is mostly a darkroom, don't know why; I'd like to show you, though) along with a few other things that GIR identified as artifacts from Irk or some other planet or something. Can't for the life of me think of the name right now, sorry. That's not important, though._

_ "What is important is what that stone is. It's a rare mineral that isn't formed naturally anywhere. Rather, it's made up of debris from asteroids, planets and failed stars. It has a weird kind of energy to it, don't you think? Maybe that doesn't make sense. But apparently I had some because all Irkens hoard that mineral like crazy. It's supposed to help anyone in possession of it be astute, aware; energized, I guess. And now I've gone and made that energy bit up there seem really lame. I think by now it'd be worse if I started crossing words out, though._

_ "Are you still reading this?"_ I laughed. I hadn't felt so wonderful in... well, in three years.

_ "Moving on,"_ Zim's note continued, _"I want to talk about the metal the ring is made up of. I have no idea what it is. GIR told me it's an ancient Irken mineral, but that's all I could get out of him, because his memory chip sort of fried after that. Something about the lack of information around it leads me to believe it's going to be important someday. So it's for you to hold onto. And the best way for you to hold onto it is to wear it. Protect it, because I swear, I can't shake this feeling that it's something that others might be after, but it's also something that can help you as well._

_ "So this leads me into what you're probably wondering about why I made this and why I gave this to you. Shit, my heart's really pounding right now. And I'm out of room. I have to go find more paper."_

I smiled, trying to envision exactly what Zim was going through while writing down the words I was currently reading. It was as though no time had passed at all. I let out a sigh and went on to the second page.

_"Okay, now I can keep writing. My hand is really shaking right now. I'm pretty nervous. I'm sitting here, looking at this ring, trying to form thoughts and words. Alright, I think I've got something. One of the reasons I had this made for you is because—well, something is telling me that Earth isn't going to be a very safe place in a few years, and I want more than anything to be able to protect you and help you, but I don't know where I'll be. If I know you have this though, if you hold onto this—_

_ "Gaz, this is my way of saying I'm coming back._

_ "I don't know how I'll manage it, yet. I don't know how possible it's going to be. I don't know how long it's going to take, and I don't know if I'll even forget everything I'm writing by the time—but just keep this thing safe. As long as you do, I'm confident that you'll be all right._

_ "And if you don't mind, I'd like to ask you to wait for me. I know this may end up reading weird, but I've been thinking about us, and what might happen in the future. I bet this sounds absolutely pathetic, huh? I don't care. I don't think I do, anyway. Maybe a little._

_ "Now, I'm not trying to sound possessive or anything, and I'm not saying you shouldn't do whatever you feel is right, but if you do wait for me—if you can—I promise, I'll find some way back._

_ "Because I love you. You're an amazing person, Gaz. You've taught me more about life than I ever thought or pretended I knew. And I deeply, honestly thank you for that. You have an incredibly kind demeanor, and you're also a lot stronger than you think you are. And I'm not talking about just physical strength here, hah—remember that night on the roof? I'm pretty sure I kicked your ass._

_ "Sorry, trying to keep things light. I mean it, though. Try to stay up, okay? I hope that, by the time you're actually holding this note in your hands, I haven't caused you any worry. If during this time I'm human, I'm most likely reading this over your shoulder and wondering how much more pathetic I could possibly sound right now. If I'm not, well, I don't quite know. Hopefully, I'm looking for a way to become human again._

_ "Stay strong, Gaz. I know you have it in you._

_ "I love you._

_ "-Zim."_

I had to set the note to the side so that the tears I'd felt creep up on me the whole time wouldn't fall and blur the ink on the pages. I wasn't crying hard... but I was crying.

"You don't sound pathetic at all," I whispered, forcing a smile as I looked back over at the note. "Just... nice..."

Drying my eyes, I picked up the note again and re-read it, then held up my unique ring. "He actually had this _made_ for me..." I breathed. I had no idea how he'd done it. That was something I didn't question. The fact was, it existed, and now I had a strong link to him. I had proof that that week had happened (more than the sweatshirt I still kept around). I had something to admire again, something that would keep me anticipating new, better things, rather than staying stagnant and wondering when things could possibly get worse. I lay back onto my bed and admired the ring. "Wonder what you'd think," I whispered. "Does it look good on me?"

I wondered for a second about wearing it around, for fear that Dib would get strange about it, but I then decided I did not care. Because Zim had told me he was coming back. Yes, he had written that note three years ago. Yes, he was now partnered with Tak. But he'd been struggling. He still had a conscience. He still had human thoughts and tendencies, and that side of him, at least, cared about me. 'Pathetic' or not, that note gave me hope, and hope was something I had never easily been able to hold onto.

"You told me to wait," I said, sitting up and picking up his letter again. Just touching the letter got a grin out of me. "So I'm waiting, but I'm already sick of it. Hurry up, already, so I can say thank you."

– – –

There was a knock at my door later that afternoon, while I was strumming a few chords from the chorus of the song "My Bloody Valentine" lazily on my guitar, pausing every now and then to admire my beautiful new ring. That ring had put me in such a good mood for the rest of that day, I almost wanted to apologize to Dib for being so ticked off at him before. I told myself I'd apologize whenever he next decided we should talk. Lately I didn't like to initiate conversations with him since he was now as busy as Dad always had been. And they claim they were nothing alike. Hmf.

It was a good thing I did end up in such a surprisingly good mood that afternoon, too, considering who it was I ended up opening the door for. I recognized the man who was standing there, from seeing my brother showing him and his daughter around the night before.

"Hello!" he greeted briskly. "Sorry if I'm interrupting anything, but I don't believe we've properly been introduced. I'm Victor Haynsworth."

"Gaz," I replied, shaking the hand that he'd offered me.

His eyes said, _I know._ He was insanely polite, the Professor, just as I'd subconsciously expected him to be, right from the minute Dib had told me we'd be having new additions from England arriving. I guess I've just always had that stereotype in my head of the exceptionally kind British gentleman in my head. Then again, for some reason, all I'd read up to that point was Victorian literature, so go figure.

"I've been informed that you've agreed to let my daughter share your room for a while," he said, retracting his hand and smiling.

"Really?" I asked. So Dib and his advisor had just said to go ahead with it, huh? I sighed.

"If it isn't too much to ask."

"I'm not too thrilled on sharing my room, to be completely honest," I found myself saying to this really nice, fatherly guy, suddenly feeling awful for speaking my mind, "but I will," I added quickly. I realized, after just a few seconds of knowing him, that Professor Haynsworth was like my ideal picture of a father. Even his handshake grip wasn't as hard as my dad's. He was just very obviously a great person. One could tell by his clean looks and his smooth, kind voice. Maybe because I never saw my father's face, his voice had always seemed really harsh.

The Professor grinned. "Thank you very much, Gaz," he told me. "I greatly appreciate it, really. I'll make it up to you somehow, I promise."

"No, it's fine," I decided on saying. I couldn't ask someone like that to do anything for me. Not easily, anyway. "When's she gonna start moving in?"

"Well, immediately if you don't mind," said the Professor rather nervously. When he stood to the side, his daughter was standing right behind him, a backpack slung over one shoulder, looking submissive. "I'll leave you two to get to know each other, then."

Before I could say anything, the Professor took his leave, giving his daughter a little squeeze on the shoulder before returning to his office. We both watched him leave, then just sort of glared at each other. She was a lot taller than me, or would have been had I not been wearing heels that shortened our height difference (I was still about 5'3" at that point); then again, she was about four years older.

"So," she said plainly. "Hello."

"Hi," I said in response. "Uh, come on in?" I stepped back and walked back to my bed, which faced the door from the right. Like all the two-bed rooms, there were two closets as well; mine facing the foot of my bed, what was now Alexandria's was on the wall to the left of her bed. I had doors, she didn't, but they were both walk-ins with shelves and hangers. "You get the left side." She'd also get to use the extra chest of drawers that I hadn't any need of. The room was set up such that I had my bed pushed against the far wall, with the window, with my dresser doubling as a bedside table, and a bookcase separating our dressers, from which her side of the room began.

"Are you as reluctant to do this as I am?" she wondered, walking over to the bed and sitting down, setting her backpack down next to her.

"I think this is just Dib trying to get me to talk to people more," I admitted, picking my guitar back up.

"Same with my father." Alexandria glanced around the room a little, and, as I plucked a few strings in no particular order, I studied her. She looked very down-to-earth, but her expression read that she had just come out of something of a rebellious phase. She was sixteen, though; how many kids by her age hadn't? I'd heard her yelling at Dib before, from passing through the hall while he was in a meeting with the Haynsworths, hence how I'd come to the rush decision that she was something of a bitch. Her face didn't read bitch, though, so only rebellion could explain why she may have just been wound the wrong way, so to speak. After her green eyes darted around the room a few times, she leaned over her knees and asked me, "You play the guitar?"

"Yeah, for a couple years," I answered. "I don't think I'm too good yet."

"It sounds fine to me. I've always wanted to," she admitted. "Play the guitar, I mean. My ex-boyfriend was a drummer, but he told me to keep out of his band."

"Do you sing or something?" I wondered.

"Church choir singing when I was young, but little else. I play the violin myself. And piano, somewhat." Alexandria paused, glanced at her backpack, then showed a small tick of a smile and added, "I don't think I'm very good either."

"Huh," I remarked, strumming a little. I couldn't tell if we were reaching for conversation or if we were actually having one. The air in the room was awkward, but in our own ways, we were inadvertently making strides toward making it seem less so. "Violin always looks really hard. A lot of the music I like uses violins."

"It used to be quite difficult, but I practice when I can," she shrugged. "What sort of music do you listen to?"

"Goth," I muttered.

She smiled uncertainly. "Well," she said, "I'm rather open to music. I'm, er... glad we may have some common ground."

"Yeah." I guess you could call it that.

There was a lull for a moment, and then she stood, unzipped her backpack, and started taking out books. Another common interest, it seemed, but I didn' say anything yet. When she'd nearly emptied the bag—with a set of nightclothes, her brush, a few various things—she picked up a couple of the books and set them in a particular arrangement on her dresser. "By the way," she said, just when I thought conversation was out, "you can call me 'Lex' if you want to. My father does, and most of my friends do."

"Do you prefer it?"

"Yes, actually." She chewed her lower lip for a second, then sat back down on the bed. "My mother is really the only one who calls me Alexandria. And we don't get on."

"Lex, then."

"Please."

"'Kay, sure." I plucked a couple strings again. "I don't have a nickname. Just Gaz."

"Just Gaz," Lex repeated.

"Yep."

"Well, then."

We talked for a while longer, and I came to discover that she didn't seem half bad. She was much easier to talk to than Tenn or Nacea, I gave her that. Maybe the fact that she was, oh, actually human helped. Having to share my room with someone was something I was still wary about, but at least she was somebody who also respected personal space, so that was good. We had similar tastes in literature, too, I soon found, and it didn't take too long for me to actually start consdering her a friend. I knew that friendship was something I needed, but there were things missing from my life that bothered me more: real parents (or at least my dad), and Zim.

– – –

– – –

**Author's Note:**

Hi, everyone! Huuuge update this week, sorry if it's a lot to digest! ^^;; With this update, _IZMS_ has passed 20 chapters, and it makes me super excited and happy that you have all been so kind in your reviews! I may start replying to reviews in this comment section, hope that would be all right with you! Because I want to interact with all of these amazing reviews, but I get kind of nervous sending back private messages… plus, some things come up in reviews that I'd love to reply to in this public note section… so, starting next week, I think I'll be doing some replies here! :3

And one more note! (A lot today, oops!) Next week will be the penultimate post for _Part One._ Yep, only two more updates until we move on to _Part Two!_ I'm excited, and fueled by all these great reviews and support! :3 Many thanks~! ^^ And see you next week, on **Friday, June 17****th****!**

~Jizena~

(And a shameless plug: if anyone out there is also a _South Park_ fan, check out my other project, co-authored with FF user Rosie Denn, entitled _The Mysterion Mythos: Cthulhu Fhtagn,_ which will start up this coming Wednesday, June 15th! ^^)

– – –


	22. Changes Finale 1: The Cabochon

– – –

**Author's Note:**

_Invader Zim_ is -c- Jhonen Vasquez! Only the events of this story, characters specific to the story, and character tweaking (heh) are mine. :3

~Jizena~

– – –

_Zim's Records_

The day was bound to come when I was let in on Tak's plan, but when it did, it seemed so unlikely that it was happening, I let myself be distracted. This... was bad. Part of me figured that she had been planning for that, that she had been waiting for an opportunity to rope me in on her final reveal, just when I was becoming more and more confused about who I was and what I wanted.

My PAK was still slowly overheating, and the only person who knew was Skutch. I'd gone to him for advice on the matter, asking what procedures I'd need to go through for a shell replacement, and how serious a possible meltdown could be. He—to my surprise—told me it was nothing to worry about, that it happened all the time, and that PAKs all have ways of repairing themselves. Something about his quick answer led me to believe wholeheartedly that he was not making this information up. "Let it figure out what's wrong first," he advised. "PAKs adjust to damage pretty well. Your body might feel weird, but your PAK'll be fine, just give it some time."

But it didn't get better. Still, I never went for help.

The flashes continued. I would be reminded alternately of my time spent as a human, and my odd, forgotten past. It interfered with my work. It interfered with my meetings with Skutch; I would excuse myself more during our quick meet-ups now, which gave me little time to learn anything else about Tavis. Before we decided to take a break from the secret rendezvous for a while, however, I did learn something about the identity of one of the ancient Irken Talismans. I learned about the Mirror.

That was all it was called. The Mirror. Irkens aren't very creative when they name things, I'll admit that. But sometimes blunt was better. And it had nicknames. The Mirror of Truth. The Mirror of Life. The Inner Mirror. I could start to figure out the function just from the nicknames. Skutch had limited but interesting information on it. How it had passed hands, and, after once being entrusted to Tallest Miyuki, was lost after her brutal death. (Skutch glared at me when he told me that part. I got it. Blame me. Of course her death was my fault, whether I remembered killing her or not.) The current Control Brain lineup seemed convinced that it still existed, somewhere in some galaxy or other, and I instantly realized that reclaiming that ancient thing may have been an ulterior motive in the Invasions.

That left two others I needed to learn more about: one, as Skutch had told me, was a weapon, though what kind was still unclear; the other we knew nothing about.

Tak, however, did.

And that thing was the last part of her plan.

The fact that she approached me about it during normal lunch call proved that she was onto something huge. I rarely saw Tak outside of our control room. Hell, I rarely saw her _in_ there. For someone who was supposed to be keeping tabs on her, I was doing an awful job. Tracking the same thing she was researching was the best I could do, and Tallest Purple did thank me for it.

"Zim," Tak said, overly sweetly, when she approached me in the lounge in which I was taking lunch with Larb and Zee, "I have a job for you."

"I'm eating," I shot back. "It can wait till I'm done."

"No, I'm sure it can't."

"Yeah, it can."

"No, it _can't!"_ Tak barked. "Get over here!" With that, she grabbed me away by the arm.

The right arm.

I winced when her hand clenched around the sensitive area, but managed to suppress the flash until she'd taken me to a desolate spot. There was a brief, very brief image of an alien city in ruin, the only recognizable thing among the rubble a flag bearing the Irken insignia, and then my brain went blank for a second. My subconscious then played back another scene from the Time Warp, another moment I'd spent alone with Gaz. This time, it was late into the week, when that wound on my arm was only hours old, hardly a day, and I sat with her in the town park, commanding her not to irritate it. She had given a kind apology, and invited me back to her home. I really had told that girl everything. I'd told her almost everything I knew about myself, and everything I'd ever felt. And I had really... loved that.

"Zim."

That was love, right?

_"Zim."_

That had felt so much better than kicking around the _Massive_ waiting for missions, right?

_"ZIM!"_ Tak slapped me with her voice, and my eyes shot open. It took me a second to snap myself back to my present, lacklustre reality, but I pulled myself out of the flash. Staring at Tak, the question ran through my mind, but I just could not ask it. _Do you still have that machine? Could you do it again? Just so I can know?_

All that Tak had been succeeding in doing thus far was reminding me how much I hated her. I'd stuck around and dealt with her, I'd done what she asked, because of my ridiculous confusion. _Stop lying to yourself,_ my conscience intervened. _Stop trying to convince yourself that this is the only answer._

_ What do you want?_

_ Yes._ Oh? This voice was new... wasn't it..?_ What _do_ you want? _It wasn't the usual tone of my conscience... _What are you thinking? Or, are you thinking at all?_

"What?" I shouted. If I couldn't understand my own damn mind talking to me, I had no idea what to do.

Thinking my outburst was entirely aimed at her, Tak growled and let go of me angrily, then snarled, "I'm still putting up with you for now. I'm not done with you yet."

"Thanks for just admitting you only ever wanted to _use_ me," I bit back.

"Oh, shut up. You need this, and you know you do. I need you to find something for me."

"Right," I snipped. "Tak, I'm sick of running errands for you. I need time to think."

"No, you don't!" she shouted. "The last thing you need to do is start brooding, Zim. You need to _work."_

"Whiiiiiich is exactly why you keep shoving me out of the _room I need to work in?"_

Tak scowled, then grabbed me by the collar and got up in my face, her eyes flashing. "You _will_ do this errand for me," she commanded. "Perhaps not this minute, but soon, Zim, very soon, you'll wake up and see the importance of this. I've found a Talisman. I've found a Tavic relic, a piece of Irk that I—that _we_ need in order to make this Invasion _unforgettable._ My research clearly shows that it is somewhere here, on the _Massive. _I need you to find it for me. But fine. Go ahead. Take your time to _think,_ you weak little..."

"Which one?" I asked her. Oh. Fuck. I appeared way too interested.

"Never mind that, if you don't want to help," she purred, shoving me off and giving me a shrug. "I'll tell you when you come back willing to aid me."

I mocked her back when she turned to leave, and I left in the opposite direction. My sensitive right arm seemed to catch fire as I walked briskly toward Tallest Purple's favored control room. If there was only one person around I was even remotely interested in talking to, he was the one. He'd had me spying on Tak, and now I could specifically tell him that, yes, she was using me. I didn't know what for yet, but I knew it couldn't be good.

And, oh, there I went. Judging good and bad, right and wrong.

The control room was empty. I stormed right up to one of the enormous windows, took one unimpressed look at the vastness of the sky that was spread out in front of me, and slammed one fist against the glass, trying to ignore my reflection. I hadn't actively looked at my reflection in a long time. Every time I did, it seemed wrong.

"Goddammit!" I shouted at nothing. Lowering my voice, I began asking myself aloud, "Is this really what I wanted..? This stupid Invasion? This horrible partnership? Is this really how I want it to end?" I growled and leaned up against the window, staring out at the Armada. "I'm no Invader," I muttered. "I can't do this."

And then I said it.

"I can't destroy that planet."

The truth was out.

"I can't kill any more."

A flash. A blinding, gut-wrenching flash—the past, somewhere in those lost sixty years, the image had to be true. _Fire. Destruction. Bodies, rotting, burning flesh. Where was I?_

I gasped and snapped out of it. The last words I'd spoken... hadn't really stemmed from anything. I hadn't killed anyone on Earth, not directly, not intentionally. I'd killed before, sure, but I barely remembered any of it. Miyuki and Spork were gone because of me. But who was to say I was going to singlehandedly kill during the Earth Invasion?

Shit.

The more I thought about it, the less I liked the sound of that.

_Dammit, Zim,_ I scolded myself, _make up your mind._

I pushed back, away from the window, this time glaring at my reflection. My PAK surged, threatening to explode any minute from overheating and over-processing, and my arm stung, threatening to suck me down into a world of truths I was not sure I wanted yet to hear. My mind raced. Nothing made sense. My mind was pleading for things to go back to the way they had been during the Warp. I'd felt clear. I'd felt level-headed for the first time in my life. Yes, it had come at the cost of some Irken knowledge, but it had been worth it.

It really had. It had been worth it.

I stared out the window again, wondering how far off Earth was. Wondering exactly how long it had been.

That thing—that... ridiculous thing I'd tucked into a box that night... had she found it?

I closed my eyes, shutting out the Empire.

"You are so stupid, Zim," I scolded myself. My words, my sentiments, were sounding more human by the phrase. "Promising things like that. That's not just stupid, it's impossible."

"Who are you talking to?"

I whipped around and saw Tallest Purple standing behind me. For a second, I froze, intimidated in his presence, but I quickly snapped myself into the standardized Irken reaction, so as not to appear as Defective as the entire Empire knew I really was.

"No one, sir," I responded, saluting. "My apologies for—"

"You're fine, you're fine," Tallest Purple assured me, waving it off. "You know it's Red who gets upset about formalities, not me. I don't really care."

Gratefully, I lowered my hand. "All right," I said. "My Tallest, I do apologize for not having much to report recently."

"I trust you've been working, though," said Purple. He moved the stand beside me, and leaned against the banister that stood just about a foot back from the window. It was a little too high for me, so I just took a few steps back in order to speak to him without blocking his view. He didn't seem interested in that view, however... he was entirely focused on my mission. From Purple, this really was rare and interesting. Normally, from what I had seen of the two interacting in front of the Irken crowd, he let Tallest Red take control and set goals. "Do you have anything new to tell me at all?"

"Actually," I admitted, "I do."

"Oh?"

"Tak has been using me."

A faint smile appeared on Purple's face, and I knew that didn't mean good things for me. "You've figured that out, hmm?" he said.

I groaned. "You knew that much?" I guessed.

"Red didn't believe me," said Purple. "I know underhanded tricks when I see them. So, now, tell me, whose idea was the partnership? Hers?" I nodded, feeling absolutely stupid. "Why did you follow her?"

"I—I needed something to do."

"So, this Earth mission..." Purple went on, his eyes chilling me, "I don't suppose you'd like to tell me anything different about it?"

"Eh?"

"Invader Zim, you have been acting a lot differently since you returned here," he observed, his eyes narrowing. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were a different person." There was a sting in my chest, but I said nothing. "When you left here, Zim, you were brash and, to be blunt, annoying."

"Thanks," I said.

"Hear me out. I'm convinced that something about that planet changed you," Purple went on. Fuck, fuck, _fuck!_ It was that obvious? "Whether or not you tell me anything more than that is up to you."

"Does it really seem like I've... changed..?" I wondered. My arm stung, and out of habit, I grabbed at the spot. This only succeeded in confirming Purple's suspicions, I knew, but it was an action that couldn't be helped.

"Perhaps not everyone can see it," he told me, "but I'm much more observant than my partner credits me for."

"I... you—you and Tallest Red, sir, if you don't mind my saying," I began, knowing I was most likely digging a grave, "you seem to have..."

"Different motives? Different means?"

That was easy. "Eh... yes..."

"Takes me forever to get him to do things my way," Purple complained, "and of course he hasn't noticed anything wrong about Tak's methods, or different characteristics in you. I've had the latest say, however. It took me a while, but I've got my hand in the mission, now."

"The mission?" I wondered. "The... the Invasion?"

"It might interest you to know," Purple continued, "we're on our way there now."

"Earth?" I choked on my breath. "Why? Tak says she still has to prepare fo—"

"It's the Resisty," Purple grumbled. "That stupid group of rebels made that way. They aren't staking claim to our property, Zim."

"But—but the Resisty aren't a group out to _conquer,"_ I remembered. "They just oppose the Empire and—"

"That doesn't mean they won't cause unnecessary destruction," Purple said, his eyes narrowing. "We haven't been keeping track of them, and that was a mistake. I, at least, have learned from that, and it's part of the reason why I've asked you to keep tabs on Tak. Are you and I the only sane people _on_ this ship?" With that, he shoved off and headed for the direction of another meeting room, where surely Tallest Red was.

The comment was so strange, though, I had to say something. "Did... did you just call me _sane?"_ I wondered. Now would be a really bad time to mention the flashes.

"You're a thinker, Zim," said Purple, turning back to look at me. "Keep that quality. Think before you act. It's the best way to get anything done."

That was fair. "Well, then, I should bring something else to your attention, sir," I said.

"What is it?"

"Tak, eh... Tak says she's found a Talisman. One of those ancient Irken, Tavic things," I confided in Purple. "She wants me to go on a little mission to find it and—"

"So go on her mission," Tallest Purple instructed, "but bring the item to me. Red and I will know what to properly do with it." He paused, then asked, "Are you sure she's found something like that?"

"Positive."

"...Which one..?"

"She wouldn't tell me."

Purple sighed, then turned to leave again. "Find it," he instructed me. "Whatever you do, though, Zim, don't let her touch it. I don't trust her, and neither should you."

"Yes, sir."

With that, Tallest Purple left, and I found myself alone in the large control room.

As soon as the door slid closed behind Purple, the lights went out. The windows even seemed to dim, and I could barely see my hands in front of my face. I did bring them up, though—my hands. I stared at them, glared at them, and began to wonder again what the hell I was going to do.

We were on our way to Earth. I had a mission, a counter-mission...

And a lot of thinking and explaining to do.

"Goddammit," I whispered into the strangely dark room. "What do I do..? Someone tell me what the hell I'm supposed to do!" Purple knew I'd changed, Skutch was losing interest in our brief partnership, Tak was bent on molding me to her will, Dib was privy to the Invasion and had probably already amassed a huge group of followers, and Gaz—

_Get out of my head,_ I tried to will the flash before it happened.

No such luck.

Just as they had before, they followed the pattern: distant past first, painfully recent past next. Everything I saw only seemed to point to one conclusion... there was someone that I had been, someone that I was still expected to be, and yet I wanted to move on. The fact that I had been distracting myself should have been proof enough for me. I didn't want to be distracted anymore. I wanted someone to tell me what the fuck I should do, and where I really needed to be. Sure, that someone probably had to be me convincing myself that one path or another was better, but there were a few things that needed to happen before I could reach a real conclusion.

And then, just like that, an opportunity materialized in front of me.

The room grew cold, but my arm burned. Despite the fact that, as an Irken, the wound was not visible on my skin, it felt just as horrible as I remembered, the night that Tak had carved that part of my arm up. It hurt worse, being Irken, honestly. I had higher pain tolerance as a human... or, rather, I had someone I wanted to be strong for.

"Interesting," I heard a voice say from the pitch-black shadows. The voice was female, low and gliding, lyrical but chilling—haunting, captivating. "It has been a long time since I've seen an Irken in love."

"Who's there?" I shouted into the darkness, lifting my head and keeping on my guard.

And out she stepped: a figure, of unidentifyable origin. She very well could have been human, or, then again, I had seen a race of figures that slightly resembled her before. The figure was tall, though whether her height rivaled that of the Tallest was questionable, and her presence could do nothing but shock me. She was shrouded in a long, flowing robe, a very light, greyish lavender in color, which kept every inch of her covered, but for a slight showing of her thin, pale neck; a large hood was drawn over her head, and the features of her face were veiled in black. Her hands, too, were covered by black gloves. I could do nothing but stare.

"Because you are in love, aren't you?" Her melodic voice had the hint of a dialect I couldn't place. All I could think was that she, perhaps, belonged to one of the races the Irkens had long since conquered. But that seemed too easy, too obvious. Plus, it seemed that the only reason she was on the _Massive_ at all was to get my attention.

"Who are you?" I demanded. "What do you want?"

"I am the Mandylion," was the answer. The figure gestured to herself with a flourish of her left hand. "That is all you need to know. But I know you, and I know of your troubles."

I could feel myself trembling in her presence. "What do you want from me?" I asked her again.

"I ask nothing of you, yet I come with news that may shock you, Invader Zim."

"How do you know who I am?"

"I know much about you," said the Mandylion, holding a hand out into the air beside her. "In particular, I know of your want to be redeemed."

I backed away a little, confused beyond all belief. "Redeemed?" I repeated. "I've never said anything about wanting to be redeemed for anything..."

"Redemption, Zim, is the same thing as a second chance." In the air, where she held her eager hand, a long mirror materialized.

The thing was beautiful. The glass shimmered like diamonds, and the frame—! The frame was carved in a style the likes of which I had never seen before. Symbols were cut into the strange metal it was made of, swirling in some places, jagged in others, coming together to create one of the most incredible displays I had ever laid eyes on. Something about that metal was familiar... the odd sheen, the unique shade, close to hematite and yet so unlike any material I had come across on Earth, or anywhere else.

Tavis.

I had seen it before. I did know what Tavis was, I had held it before... done more than that...

I'd found some, during the Time Warp. I'd found some, not known at the time what it was... but I'd had a feeling it was important, that it was useful. So I'd passed it on to Gaz. Hadn't I told her I'd come back? And I'd written her that promise along with the gift of... _that..?_

"That's that Mirror!" I yelped. "What th—why do you have that?" I shouted at the Mandylion. "Who are you?"

"I am someone who knows far too many secrets," she told me. "One could say that I collect them. This Mirror has found its way to me. Many things find their way to me, over time."

"Well, if you know so many secrets, then tell me: is that the thing Tak is looking for?"

The Mandylion laughed. "Oh, I am sure," she said. It was terrifying, not being able to see a single feature of her face past that veil. Her tone held the hint of a smile, but I could tell nothing else beyond that. "But I cannot relinquish this Mirror. I've grown too fond of it, and I am in need of it, at present."

Her voice made me uneasy. Not the dulcet sound of it, not even the untraceable accent. There was just something about it that seemed... out of place. Alarming. And she terrified me for reasons I could never hope to describe. "What..." I ventured to ask, "what does it do..?"

"I don't think you are quite ready to know," said the Mandylion. "It is here simply because it is a part of me now. And now that you have seen it, you will be prepared when I come to you again."

"I... I don't understand," I said flatly.

"Is it change you're looking for?"

"WHO ARE YOU AND WHY ARE YOU ASKING ME CONFUSING QUESTIONS?" I demanded. "Seriously! I don't know what I want, okay? I really don't! I'd like a chance to figure it out, but I doubt I'll get one, so I'd like to be slightly less confused about what's going on, and you're freaking me out and it isn't helping!"

"A chance to figure out what you want?" the Mandylion repeated. "I could grant that."

"What—are—you?" I demanded.

The Mandylion reached into a pocket of her robe, then approached me further, Mirror floating beside her, and knealt in front of me. From that pocket, she withdrew a small gem, about the size of her palm. The gem was an eerie, pale green in color, crudely cut and rather unsightly; it was set within a chunk of Tavis, and was attached to a chain, made from that ancient Irken mineral as well. The shape of the thing was roughly octagonal, and it emitted a weird sort of energy. I remembered that about the material I'd made that ring out of, too.

Oh, Goddammit, that ring...

"This," said the Mandylion, "is the Cabochon. This will propel you on your way. If you want a chance to discover what you want, here is your test. Ensure that this is passed to the proper hands, and you will have the opportunity to find your answers."

"Ehm... are... are you sure you want to give this to me?" I wondered. "I'm a total screw-up. I'm not reliable at all..."

"You are only that way if you believe that you are."

"Eh... hmm..." Gingerly, very gingerly, I took the odd relic in my hands, and instantly felt connected to something much greater than my own little life. Tavis _was_ Irk. It was as essential to the home planet as water was to Earth. Shards of the stuff remained in the Irken birthing chambers, in PAK development plants, and therefore in every Irken body. It felt like life, like a thing that had to be treated with utmost care, like it had a mind of its own. My arm ached more than ever, holding it. That wound was getting worse, lately. Ever since the overheating had started. I wondered, suddenly, how long my PAK could hold out...

"Thanks," I managed. "I... the Cabochon? That's the name of this?"

"It is."

"And then that's the Mirror."

"Yes," said the Mandylion, standing. "You will know it soon."

"What's the third one called?" I wondered.

"Your curiosity will lead you to the answer," she told me. "Don't seek it out. It will find you."

"Why me?"

The Mandylion set a gloved hand on my head, and it sent a shiver down my spine. Was she even corporeal? Something about her made me feel like she should not have been a part of this dimension. Or plane of existence. I winced and closed my eyes, and let another chill come.

When I opened my eyes again, she was gone, the light returned to the room, and I was left holding the gem.

The Mirror. The Cabochon. The third, according to Skutch, was a weapon. And I was supposed to know about it, someday. Those Talismans were more important than I'd originally believed.

Knowing that, I held the gem out in front of me, letting myself remember the weight and feel of Tavis. It was a soft material—that I could tell even through my gloves, and surprisingly light. I held the thing with both hands, afraid I might drop and break it, and stared at it for a while, wondering which route I should take.

Obviously, I wanted to give it to Purple. Tallest Red made me nervous, though. My nervousness around Red came from respect. It was the same for both of them. Those two were the closest things to parental figures I'd ever really had, even though we were very close in real age, or so I had been told. Giving them the Cabochon was the right thing to do, but without knowing its actual _function,_ I didn't want to be too hasty.

One thing I did not want to do was let Tak get her hands on it.

So, naturally, I clinched up and stopped breathing when she appeared in the room.

Tak was in the middle of a tantrum, it seemed, judging by the way she stormed up to me, by the way MiMi skitted about her heels, by the way Tak was carrying GIR in one clenched fist. In a rage, she flung my robot at me, and I barely had the time to switch the gem over to one hand in order to catch GIR, but I managed to do it. "What the hell?" I yelped at her.

"Mind explaining to me why the Tallest are all of a sudden locking me out of the lab?" she shrieked.

"They did?" I wondered.

"Don't play stupid with me!" Tak screamed. "I know you've been having secret meetings on the side! I know you and Tallest Purple are _great_ friends now! I know you and that stupid, idealistic Invader Skutch have been off plotting on your own!"

"We aren't plotting, we're just doing research," I said in our defense, not wanting her to take anything out on Skutch, too, when he'd really done nothing wrong.

"AGAINST ME!" Tak stormed right up to me, and GIR wriggled out of my grip as Tak grabbed me by the collar and shouted in my face, "You had better have a fucking great backup plan, because I am so close to vaporizing you for turning the Tallest against me! After everything I worked for, I—"

"What _were_ you working toward?" I finally asked her. "It's way bigger than just invading Earth, isn't it?"

"Of course it is!" Tak bellowed. "You're so simple-minded, I could crush you! And I will! Invasion is just a word I'm going to use to keep the humans occupied. I've been doing my research for years, Zim. This is going to change our race! My plan is to combi—"

And that was when she noticed it.

Her eyes fell on the Cabochon, and she let me go. "You have it..?" she breathed, her eyes going wide as she continued staring at the thing.

"Yeah," I said, "and you're not getting any closer to it than you are."

"Oh no?"

"Never! GIR!" I commanded. "Hold her back!"

"What you say?" GIR asked in his squeaky, robotic voice.

"Get her!" I tried again. Tak stared at me blankly. "Attack!"

"I dunno," said GIR, "I'mma take a nap."

"NO!" I shouted. "Attack her! If not Tak, get MiMi! I don't know! Do _some_thing!"

"MiMi?" GIR suddenly snapped into action, and darted at TAK's own robot, who quickly countered. Within seconds, the robots were caught in the middle of a brawl, and I was left to deal with Tak on my own.

"Give that to me," she commanded, her tone dark and malicious. Clearly, her reasons for wanting that thing were not well-intentioned.

"No!" I shouted. "Tell me what your plan is first, and maybe I'll consider it!"

"You're too fucking stupid to be let in on the real plan!"

"I'm smarter than you give me credit for!"

"But you have a conscience and that slows you down!" Tak shouted. Finally fed up with talking, she lunged at me.

Our conversation then died and became a fistfight. Keeping her away with just one hand was difficult, but I managed. Tak was quick, but I had better reflexes. She struck over and over, throwing punches at every angle, but I was able to dodge, and sometimes even counter. Tak kept her eyes on the Cabochon, her glare becoming more and more greedy with each strike she dealt.

MiMi, meanwhile, was getting the best of GIR, and had, when I glanced over to check on them, succeeded in tossing him into the far wall, where he crashed into the wall near the emergency exit door. The collision triggered the security system, causing large metal sheets to fall down over the observation windows. I cried out for him when GIR crashed to the ground, and the room began blinking red with the warning signal that the security system sent out.

"MiMi, damn it all!" Tak shouted over at her companion. "Use restraint!" Catching me while I was still distracted with concern for my own robot partner, Tak dealt the ultimate blow:

She activated her human hologram.

The tall version, the solid model, the hologram she had used during the Time Warp to pass as a teenager. She'd modified it even since then. Her appearance looked around eighteen, at the youngest, and was dressed in a tight black turtleneck top and a short indigo skirt, under which she wore tight black shorts; she still had shortish, angled indigo hair, and wore those thrice-buckled, steel-toed black boots. I felt my eyes narrow before I realized I was angry, and she caught me by the neck and shoved me to the ground, pinning me there as she knealt over me, forcing me to get a good look at the fact that she was in hologram.

Tak then grinned and wrestled the Cabochon from my hand.

"Haven't seen a human likeness in a while, have you, Zim?" she sneered. "You're so disgustingly predictable."

"What do you want?" I growled at her. "What are you really after, Tak?"

She merely grinned and brought the gem to her chest. Then, she leaned in and whispered, her face far too close to mine for comfort, "Freedom."

"For what?"

"To give our people what these two idiots never did."

"Two—you don't mean—"

"What the _fuck_ is going on in here?" Tallest Red's sharp, strict, commanding tone rang out through the room at just the right time.

Tak's eyes narrowed to points, but that sickening grin stayed on as she let me go and stood, holding the gem high above her head to show it off to the Tallest. The two shirked back, but looked startled by Tak's appearance (whether it was the 'she doesn't look Irken' factor or the 'she's really tall' factor, I didn't know). They exchanged a brief glance, and then Tallest Red came forward, captivating Tak's attention. Even though this confrontation could come to nothing good, and even though I wanted and needed to watch to get a clearer idea of what was going on, I had one thing I needed to do first.

"Who are you?" the Tallest demanded. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, well," Tak sneered. "This is certainly shaping up to be a day in my favor, isn't it?"

While Tak and Tallest Red continued talking—Tak was describing something about humans, and, already knowing enough about them, I chose to ignore her—I rushed over to where GIR had collapsed. "GIR!" I tried, shaking the little robot. "Get up, come on. We've got something we need to do, all right?"

When GIR did not move, I did the only thing I could think of. I opened a compartment in my PAK, for the first time since it had begun overheating, and extended one appendage outward, holding it just above GIR. Concentrating, I let that tool emit a spark, which then shocked GIR back to vitality. He sprang up, as if nothing had ever been wrong with him, and stood at the ready for his next command.

But I could think of nothing. I retracted the tool, and felt the gears in my PAK whir. Skutch, I began to think, had no idea what he was talking about. I should have gone to a mechanic. The thing was overheating faster, now that I'd used it before it had time to repair. It clouded my mind, but I tried to ignore it. "Come on," I tried to say to GIR. "Tak's gone over the edge, she—" My mouth continued to move, but no sound came out. I choked and gasped in an attempt to snap my body back up to speed, but was only slightly successful. My PAK sent a shock signal through my every synapse as a warning: get repairs soon or die. The options were carved in stone, obvious... but circumstances would currently not allow me to leave that room to find a mechanic drone. The cold, domed, pale red ceiling seemed to spin overhead... and then, my senses returned. I hummed out just to be sure I could still connect voice and breath, and I returned my attention to the panicking Tallest.

Wait—yes... _panicking._

Tallest Red and Tallest Purple had very different ways of handling pressure. Purple would most often flip and show true fear, sometimes going as far as to thow a panic that would make GIR seem calm in comparison; at other times, the softer-spoken of the two would stare fear in the face and make prompt, succinct executive decisions. He was a powerful, altruistic leader—though, dare I say, his generosity often got him in trouble. Red, on the other hand, never showed fear. Red had plans and stuck by them; he made rash, bold decisions regardless of outcome, as long as the overall result would make the Empire look good. Red would panic, sure, but he always seemed confident that the odds would be in his favor in the end. In that regard, he was a terrifying and much-respected dictator. In the current situation, Purple stood by, in awe at the turn of events Tak was presenting. Red was the one taking charge.

"Hand that over, _now,_ Tak!" Red shouted. He moved toward her and held out his right hand. "Give it to me, and I'll go easy on you for punishment."

"Never!" Tak cried. "Just stand back and watch as a new order rises!"

Red growled, then finally took full command. "That does it," he said. "Tak, I'm placing you in solitary to await trial!"

That set, Red, in a display I had never witnessed before, opened his PAK and extended his own set of impressive, armored spider-leg appendages, and angled them to create a laser blast. Charging power, he shouted, "I'll give you this one last chance to surrender that thing, Tak. What'll it be?"

"It doesn't matter what you do," Tak laughed.

"We'll see."

Tallest Red had always been a fan of lasers. Now I knew why. The spider-leg appendages from the PAK of an Irken Tallest made the regulation versions granted to the rest of the race look like playthings. Four thick, sharp, multi-jointed metal arms extended out of his PAK and formed a square a good three feet in front of him. The tips glowed red as they began to charge energy.

After a couple seconds of charging, Tallest Purple rushed toward me. "Get down!" he advised.

"Eh?"

"If you've never been in the same room as Red when he gets this serious, I suggest you take cover!"

So I did. No room for questions. I grabbed GIR and huddled back against the wall. Purple still stood, watching the ongoing fight with great discretion. He seemed to be analyzing every move, but I did catch that his attention was consistently on the Cabochon in Tak's hand. I did not doubt Red's forward methods, but I did have the feeling that, if anyone was going to get that thing away from Tak, Purple seemed the more likely contender, due to his need to evaluate; his attention to smaller detail.

But Red was sure close to getting to her. The beam fully charged, he sent out an explosive, incredible burst of energy, a laser cannon to possibly rival the ones that armed the ship at large. The floor below Tak gave, and rubble shot out in all directions, leaving behind smoke in the aftershock. Tak cried out when she took the hit, but something told me she wasn't going to be taken down that easily.

Something told Tallest Red that, as well, and he rushed forward into the billowing dust. A second later, Tak was flung out from the smoke, and Red shot out, at her again. Tak was momentarily shaken, and Red got in a few physical hits, until he finally demanded, "What is it you're after?"

"A better Empire!" Tak shouted, striking him across the face. I felt that one. I felt sick. No matter how I felt about motives and all that, the Tallest were the Tallest. It was no one's place to mistreat them.

At this point, Purple intervened, moving toward the two and separating them with a shove. He glared at Tak, using the (I estimated) six inches he still had on her to his utmost advantage, and said, succinctly, "I doubt you have any idea of what that means."

"Oh, no?" Tak snarled. "You were onto me, weren't you? You could have stopped this. I don't put it past you to overlook it. What I've devised is greater than anything the two of you have ever devised. You had your chance." That hit a bad chord with Red, who glowered at her.

"That isn't how I work," said Purple, darkly.

"You think so small, Purple!" Tak laughed at the less aggressive of the two.

"That's _Tallest_ Purple to you," Red lashed out.

Tak grinned, stood back, and fastened the Cabochon around her neck. It settled into place on her chest, and the glow it emitted became just a bit brighter. "Not anymore," she said, her tone ominous, sending an unsettling chill down my spine. "I don't believe that title suits you two very well." Tak stood straight back, held her arms out to both sides, tilted her head back, and cried out, "I'll build this Empire into the grand nation the two of you could never hope to achieve!"

"Tak!" Red snapped. "What are you doing?"

"STOP THIS!" I shouted, still trying to pick myself up. Tak glared over at me. "Stop whatever you're doing, right now! This isn't right, it's—"

_"Right?"_ Tak scoffed. "Stop preaching right and wrong to me, you stupid, weak-willed, conscience-plauged, human-minded _idiot!"_

The _Massive_ lurched, and came to a halt.

We'd landed.

And if what Purple had told me was true, we'd landed on Earth.

Tak took the landing opportunity to rush at me. She grabbed me up by the neck, then tossed me back into the wall. The wind was knocked out of me, giving Tak enough time to step up to me and, with one heavy kick from her steel-toed boot, crush my PAK.

I heard and felt the thing snap and shatter, and my back began to burn. The sizzling, half-functioning remains of my PAK buried themselves into my back, and my entire body felt overheated—my insides warped, charred, rebelled, my breath returned only to shift from steady to weak. My back was killing me. My arm stung until it felt numb.

And then I felt a chill again, and the Mandylion's voice came into my head: _"Is it change you're looking for?"_

I coughed and cried out, my eyes tightly shut, my head spinning and spinning with flash after flash of events remembered, forgotten, and remembered again.

"I didn't want it to end this way for you, Zim!" Tak screamed at me. "You had so much potential! You could have been an ideal! You could have become—"

I went deaf to her words, half-intentionally. I didn't want to listen to her screaming anymore. But something else distracted me. From the recesses of my brain, another voice came. Was it mine? I was too paralyzed, too alarmed at my current state to tell. _Oh?_ it said, sounding only mildly intrigued. _So this is the reflection..?_

My own voice pierced through everything as I threw to the side all of my problems, all of my possible paths, all of those memories that refused to stay gone, and let the cry from my throat escape, the tone of my voice becoming altered as the sound echoed through the room. My entire body was sore—my bones felt like they were being crushed and restructured thousands of times over, my skin crawled with pins and needles, and that Goddamn wound on my arm could have been doused in oil and caught fire, for all I knew.

Mixed, however, with the alarming steadiness of the spreading pain was an odd invigoration. Something stirred in me, something familiar, something vital. Over and over, to suppress the awful flashes, I forced one simple thought into my head: _Stay alive. Whatever you do, stay alive._

And live I did, though breathing grew harder. The cause, though, I found, was not due to failure or fatigue, but lack of oxygen. I needed air, I needed—

...Oxygen?

Groaning, I forced myself to move. This situation was all too familiar. So familiar, in fact, that I should not have been as surprised as I was to discover that lifting myself took more exerted pressure than only moments before, that I should not have been so shocked to feel the sting of fresh blood seeping from the reopened cut on my right arm as it stuck to the light, woven fabric of my shirt.

But my eyes opened, in confusion and awe—slowly, they came into focus, and my world became, once again, flooded with color. I could tell apart many more shades than I could seconds before, and as, shaking, I lifted myself up off the ground, I could clearly see the familiar, pale tone of my skin. I rocked back to sit on my heels, to study my hands—larger, stronger, gloveless, pale; five fingers on each.

Well—my chance had come. Prepared or not...

...I was human again.

But this was no time to wonder how it had happened, or what course of action to take in terms of personal exploration. Now, I was still in the midst of a power struggle, a brawl between Tallest and traitor. If there was even a slight possibility of holding Tak back, I had to take it. I had to try.

Fuck all, though, first I had to breathe.

On the wall beside me, illuminating a few scattered wires of my broken—now dissolved—PAK, was the glowing control for that room's emergency exit door. Without hesitation, ignoring the ache I felt in every muscle, in every joint, from having grown so much so rapidly, I slammed my right fist into the control. The exit door hissed and gave, opening a crack. Annoyed (both at the door, for being stubborn, and myself, for being stupid enough to have done that with my _right_ hand, as it had triggered a stabbing, throbbing shock up and down that weaker arm), I got myself standing, and promptly kicked the door down. The lightweight thing gave completely, shooting out, dislodged from the _Massive,_ leaving behind a roughly eight-by-four-foot hole, through which I could see a field on a hill. What were the odds?

Keeping myself steady against the wall, I leaned just a little out of the exit, also taking the opportunity to estimate how far I knew I'd eventually have to jump to get down to the ground, and took in a deep, sweet breath of fresh air. The wind, Earth's incredible, invigorating wind, hit my face, whipped through my clothes, rushed—that incredible feeling!—past my ears, blew through my hair. God... I had missed this.

I had missed this.

I sighed out, then filled my lungs again, found my footing, and turned back to the action in the room. Tak had found herself back in a struggle between the Tallest. Red continued throwing his power around, attacking just as I'd expect, laser blast after laser blast; Purple sat it out and waited... when Tak had strayed close enough to him, he'd make a move and try to wrestle the Cabochon from her. Neither of the two had seemed to make any kind of mark. Neither had taken the thing from her yet.

Finally, using MiMi as a diversion, Tak quickly—she had _always_ been good at this—teleported herself just behind the Tallest, now standing side by side. She set one hand on each of their PAKs, and the Cabochon around her neck glowed... not green, as I would expect, but blue. The Irken leaders cried out and, much to my horror, collapsed onto the ground. Their PAKs both emitted aftershocks of electricity, blue as well, which licked around Tak's hands. Still in hologram, Tak looked malevolently triumphant. She brought her hands up to her chest, where she clutched the gem; in ecstacy, she tilted her head back and let out a laugh.

"You bitch!" I shouted over at her. I tried not to get distracted by the sound of my voice. The tone was lower, again, as it had been during the Warp... the Irken ring to it was gone, replaced by a slightly more soothing quality. Natural. That was how I sounded. Natural. Human.

Tak's laugh morphed into a displeased growl. "Are you still moving?" she said, sounding unimpressed. That is, she seemed to feign boredom until the second she laid eyes on me. Clearly, my becoming human again was not a part of her plan. "You—" she began. Then, her eyes narrowed, and she screamed, "Are you fucking serious?"

"I take it you had nothing to do with this?" I guessed, outstretching my arms.

Tak was quick to regain her calm, and she fingered the gem, then grinned, as if that was answer enough. "Oh, this is getting _interesting,"_ she smirked. "Good idea..."

"Look, shut up!" I snapped at her. Forgetting any aching, any pain I was feeling at all, I stormed up to her, keeping myself as stolid as possible. "You're a bitch, a liar, a traitor, the list goes on! But I'll stop whatever the fuck you're doing right now."

"Oh, you will?" Tak laughed. "What's a human going to do? What do you care for those two simplistic idiots?"

"Don't backtalk the _Tallest!"_ I snapped. I was within perfect range, and took the chance to strike. I dealt her a left hook, but she countered; I swung from the right and she ducked, but I was given the perfect opening to grab her, yank her down, and knee her in the gut. As she was recovering, I cuffed her across the face, then tossed her to the side. The further I got from the exit, the harder breathing became, but I kept up what stamina I had. My mind was spinning so fast with questions that I could not think of many options of what to do, so I only hoped I could revive the Tallest, leave Tak in their care, and make for the ground. That much was certain—I had to get off the _Massive._ I had to get back to Earth. My body was human, wasn't it? There was only one thing I could do with that opportunity...

Tak straightened and moved to strike me backhanded, but I caught her wrist with my right hand and attempted to unfasten the Cabochon with my left. The thing was still glowing blue, blue as the chamber in which Tak had first set me up for the DNA shift. My grab for it provoked her, and she wrestled her wrist free, grinned wildly, and punched me, hard, in my right shoulder.

The action was more than enough to get me to back off. I recoiled and let out a cry of pain before I could stop myself, and grabbed at my arm, below the wound, trying to close it up even a little. So one other thing was certain: bandage that thing, and _fast._ I had thought, of course, on and off, about what it would be like, what I would do, if given the opportunity to be human again. I'd completely forgotten to wonder what the state of that wound would be, even though the area had continued to give me trouble.

"Get out of here!" Tak snapped at me. "I'll give you this one opportunity to run, human. Just this once, only so that my Empire can take everything from you, so that I can figure out what should really be done with you!"

"What the hell?" I spat. Lifting my head, I glared at Tak, almost afraid to search for an answer. "Wait..." I finally did ask, "you said... about the Empire..." Breathing was becoming more and more difficult. She was giving me the chance to run. I had to take it. I realized I should probably take any chance as soon as it became available, from now on, since it was possible that I would no longer have times to deliberate options.

"Oh, that?" Tak purred. "About it being mine?" She stepped back and stretched her arms out again. "See for yourself. What is it you think this old relic does? The Tallest are down, aren't they? And who's holding the power now?"

My eyes widened, and I stood back, rolling back my shoulders to shake off the discomfort from Tak's last strike. The lights in the room began to flicker, and Tak's hologram dissolved. My heart almost stopped when I saw that her height had not changed at all. From the solid human hologram she'd devised, Tak had built that height onto her own, real, Irken form; to make things worse, she was indeed wrapped in the armor of an Irken Tallest. The color was her signature indigo, and the only thing that gave me any shred of hope was the fact that she still had three fingers on each hand. As long as she did not undergo the ritual to have the third removed, Red and Purple could still be restored to their seats. Then again...

"You fucking traitor!" I shouted at Tak. "This was your plan the whole time? What happened to the Tallest?"

"I _am_ the Tallest, now," she sneered.

"Are _they_ still alive, I mean?"

"For now."

The flickering light in the room was becoming highly distracting, but I was able to locate, through the flashes, the two figures lying behind me. With them indisposed, there was no knowing to what extremes Tak would now go. I tried not to let Tak's wicked scheme bother me for the time being. What I needed to do was get the Tallest off the _Massive_ before Tak could kill them, and before the atmosphere could kill me_. _Harnessing all I could of my strength, I rushed over and gathered both of the Tallest up, one under each arm, then ran toward the emergency exit.

"HEY!" Tak shrieked after me. "No, you don't! Get back here with them!"

"Shut up!" I shouted back at her. "Come on, GIR!" I looked around for the robot, to find that he hadn't gone far. He was sitting next to the scattered, shattered wires from my PAK, where they'd fallen near the exit control, pondering them as a child ponders ants. "Come _on,_ GIR!" I tried again. He glanced up at me and cocked his head to one side. "GIR, for God's sake it's _me!_ Remember?"

"Oh, yeeaaaah," said GIR. He stood, then saluted, tongue out, and jumped off the ship.

"MiMi!" Tak cried out. "Don't let him get away with those two! For opposing me, Zim,_ you're_ the traitor to the Empire! I'll hunt you down! I'll—"

"BITE ME!" I hollered. I looked down again at the field below. The jump was a good twenty feet, but I could make it. Hopefully unharmed.

"Zim, don't you da—"

"This isn't over," I snapped at Tak. And then, with that, I took the jump. My aim could have been better. "Shit!" I shouted when I saw that I was heading straight for a boulder. I had to let go of the Tallest in order to keep from colliding with it and killing all three of us. I miraculously landed on my feet, but the impact caused me to lose my balance and I fell backwards, stumbling a few times before I managed to stop myself.

Tak, enraged, leaned out of the exit, and screamed down at me, "You're damn right this isn't over, human! Now that I'm in control, I'll have the Elite after you before you know it. You're going to regret everything, you little fuck!" With that, she disappeared back into the control room, the exit sealed back up with its backup door, and the _Massive_ took off, disappearing into the sky.

I sighed and leaned back onto the boulder that had almost killed me, bending my knees up with my feet still on the hard ground, then winced and gripped my upper right arm, trying to stop the bloodflow. "Shit..." I muttered under my breath. I glanced up into the sky, a patch completely covered in white, billowing clouds left behind in the wake of the _Massive's_ departure. I had no idea of knowing where Tak was off to now. "Way to interrupt everything, bitch," I added, just for her, just for that lying, deceitful, manipulative psychopath. Oh, wait. I'd wanted to be like that once, too. That was what 'Invader' Zim had been all about. And now, thanks, yes, to Tak, I'd strayed so far from that old goal... and yet I was stuck not knowing what I really was after.

I groaned and knocked my forehead against my knees, then grabbed at my hair in frustration. "Why'd I ever listen to her?" I grumbled to myself. "This is all my fault. It's my fault she's Tallest, it's my fault I don't—"

I paused. Keeping my eyes pressed shut, I took in another long, deep breath. I ran my fingers through my hair, realizing... damn, I hadn't felt that in so long, I'd been away from Earth for so long, but it felt so comforting. So familiar, even after only eight days of knowing that kind of sensation.

Leaning back again, I once more filled my lungs, taking in the scent of the air, the sound of nothing but the wind and the occasional birdcall whistling through the field I'd touched down in. Keeping my eyes closed, I pressed my hands down onto the ground beside me, and felt myself laugh when I touched grass. Blades of early summer grass brushed up between my fingers, tickling my senses into recalling just what the feel of such a simple thing was. I opened my eyes and squinted up at the sun, then glanced around at my surroundings. A few trees here and there, leading to thicker woods a little further off. In the distance, beyond the hill, was most likely a town. With any luck, I could get help there.

Still grinning in spite of myself, I wiped off the dirt from my hands onto the soft, dark denim jeans I was wearing, then held my hands out, palms facing up, in front of me. It was a marvel, certainly. My PAK had been overheating, and then when Tak had broken the thing, it should have killed me almost instantly. But, I realized, my mind and body had always had this to fall back on. I could still feel the influence from the PAK, just as I was able to during the Warp; it had burrowed inside me again, and was slowly repairing itself. The process was sure to take a long time. Several months, at least. Years, perhaps. At least one thing was clear. Eight days would soon seem like nothing. Oh, it was in no way permanent, but I found myself incredibly grateful for the opportunity.

This would clear things up for me. After all, my missions and goals were changing every second. I now had one thing on my mind in regards to Tak: bring her down. I was fed up with her, and usurping power was going too far. I wasn't about to let her take control of the Empire, whether I wanted to live out the rest of my life in Irken society or not. This, of course, probably meant trying to side with Dib. As much as I hated to admit it, I had to find that jerk and tell him what happened, before Tak could fabricate something to turn him against me (even more) first. As for me, being human again was a nice reprieve. Maybe I'd want to find a way to make it permanent, maybe not. That much, I was sure, depended on how I'd feel once I saw her again.

I felt my face flush when I thought about that gift I'd made her. My heart started pounding, and I felt ridiculous, and numb. But there was something exciting about it. I'd have to find her. No question. I'd find her, and if enough time had passed, she'd know about it, and would probably tell me it was lame, and that the note I'd written was lamer than _that,_ but...

...How great would it be to just talk to her again?

"Human again, eh?" I said to myself, finding solace in doing so. "Whatever this is about, I'll do what I can with it..." I forced out another sigh, just to get myself out of my head. After all, I hadn't left the _Massive_ alone. "Damn," I then found myself muttering as I looked around, this time with more of a purpose. "Where..?"

Where were they? I was sure I'd left with them, with the Tallest. And GIR, too, where'd he gone off to? I picked myself up, and my head spun. I didn't have to fight gravity as hard this time, but I was sore as hell, and the jumping-twenty-feet-from-a-hovering-aircraft impact hadn't helped. Shaking myself off for the purpose of helping the Tallest, I wandered a few steps away from that boulder. "Hello?" I called out into the grassy field. "My Tallest?"

Wait, what the hell was I doing? They wouldn't recognize me. Did I even want them to? Oh, shit, I was overanalyzing my position again. Sure, maybe I wanted to stay human. But I had to keep my newfound 'okay, you're fine' relationship with the Tallest, just in case. Or either way. Or whatever. I took another step. "Sirs? I—"

I tripped, but caught myself. _Look down, idiot,_ I scolded myself. Of course they were still unconscious. Of course they'd have probably been knocked out further from the jump down, when I'd let go of them. Of course they'd—

Who the hell were those two?

I stared down at what had made me trip. An arm. Just an arm. Yeah. Just an arm. Attached to a body, as arms generally are. An arm just as human in form and function as mine.

"FUCK!"

I stumbled backward, and made back for the boulder. I sat on top of the thing, my heart drumming wildly and my breaths coming quick and unsteadily as I stared down at the spot. Human. Human, indeed. And lying not far away, another. My eyes wide with disbelief, I once again left the safety of that boulder and stepped forward again to study them.

They had to be the Tallest, no getting around that. But whereas to the Irken audience they had always appeared to be more or less identical, these human shapes were different as night and day.

I stood over the unconscious bodies of two men, most likely both in their late twenties to mid-thirties; both were breathing heavily, seeming to be in a fair amount of pain. I saw no obvious breaks or contusions, which was great, but... "Shit..." I whispered, my eyes darting from one to the other, "no... not you, too..." The Cabochon had done this. Had to have been that. That blue light was no coincidence. That thing was, I assumed, the final form (or what have you) of the machine Tak had been using during the Warp. It had read my altered DNA structure and copied it and spat it back out. That was the most logical explanation for such an illogical, improbable event. But... damn it. Logical or not, this was... not good.

The man whose arm I'd tripped over was lying on his side, so I walked around him to study each angle. He had vivid red hair, messy but quite short, precisely shorn above his ears and at his neck, and with two longer strands slightly reminiscent of Irken antennae spiking out above his temples and falling over his face, able to brush his ears. A loose, short-sleeved red shirt, faded blue jeans, and thick black and red sneakers served their purpose as his clothing... a rather disappointing display, considering moments ago he wore the proud uniform of an Irken Tallest. It seemed suggested that he was a caucasian man in his mid-thirties, with a strong, square-cut jawline, and features that became of a young upstart of a man... fitting, given that the Irken he truly was was rather young for a Tallest; his eyes, though closed below thick eyelids, were narrowed in both pain and anger.

The other lay not far off, on his back, and his physique, too, matched his personality. His hair was a shining black, reaching just past his shoulders, with long purple bangs covering his right eye. He wore a greyish purple shirt, loose light blue jeans and faded grey tennis shoes, even more relaxed-looking in style than the first man's ensemble. This one seemed slightly younger, but with a light of more intelligence. His features were much more delicate, from the frame of his face to his thinner arms and build, and his skin seemed to have seen slightly more sun than mine or the other's, but was light and almost polished all the same. His closed eyes gave off the illusion of being serene, though worry could still be read on his face.

"Dammit..." I muttered, "dammit, Goddammit..."

Just as I was beginning to grab at my hair in a nervous panic, GIR jumped up out of nowhere and rocketed right up into my face. "HIYA!" he shrieked, waving happily.

"GAH!" Startled, I backed off and tripped over myself, hitting the ground hard in an awkward sitting position. GIR snickered and lowered himself to perch on top of one of my bent knees. "GIR, jeez, don't..." I forced a sigh. "Sorry. Glad you're safe," I grinned. "Do you have any idea what happened? Why the Tallest are—"

"Nope!" he admitted. "But checka _this."_ He proceeded, then, to sing a new verse of his 'doom' song: "Doodedoom doom de doom doom _doooom..."_

"GIR!" I hissed. "Keep it down!" I sat up and grabbed the robot, keeping one hand over his mouth to silence him. "I'm trying to figure out what to do abou—"

Too late. One of the men groaned and stirred. My stomach flipped when I heard Red's voice, plain as day: "What the fuck..?" I lifted my head and glanced over at where he had just rolled himself onto his back. The man who had been the Tallest opened his eyes, and I cringed. They were the same, powerful red color they had always been. "Impossible..." he said. "I'm on the ground." There was no mistaking it: that was Tallest Red's voice. Tak really had turned the Tallest human. I was probably about to get torn a new one.

Red sat up painfully and gasped, blinking a few times. He shook his head, then looked around frantically. "What the _hell_ is wrong with my _EYES?"_ he shouted. Uncomfortably, he put a hand to his forehead, then yelped when his long fingers touched his hair. "What the—?"

GIR wriggled free from my grip and walked over to where Red was, then picked something up off the ground that I hadn't even noticed. Before I could even ask what the item was, GIR tugged on Red's sleeve and held it up. Red panicked, then looked down at GIR, trying to adjust his eyes. That's when I realized that what GIR was holding was a pair of glasses.

_Oh, that's reeeeal nice of you, Tak, you bitch,_ I snarled internally.

Red still looked skeptical, so GIR, surprisingly, rocketed up and set the thin, rectangular-rimmed glasses into place for him. "What was tha—" Red started to shout; then he made a face at the sight of GIR. "Zim's robot..." he said in an undertone. "What'd you just do?"

GIR simply giggled and came back over to me, this time taking a seat on my head, holding onto my hair.

Red snarled and looked over at us. "Who're you?" he demanded fiercely.

"I... I... hi..." I got out. It was nothing that even resembled a response, but I was nervous beyond all imagination. "I'm, eh..."

"What was someone like you doing aboard the _Massive?"_ Red wanted to know. God, I could not get past how awkward it was that he, too, looked human. His glare was just the same, though. Red, as a human, had a very strong facial structure, with high, broad cheekbones, a precise nose, and heavy eyelids. Everything about him was proportionate and strong... his only weakness was the fact that he required glasses. How... oddly symbolic. "Answer me, human!" he barked. I assumed Tak must have had a good long talk with him about humans, back when I'd been tuning them out during their spat... otherwise, how the hell would he have known what one was? "How do you know me? Where are we? What just happened?"

"I... look, I... eh..." For a moment, I faltered, wondering if, perhaps, I wanted to lie to him. Come up with a story. Lie. For once, don't be 'Zim.' Well... no, that was a little hard. I was still trying to figure out who I was and what I wanted. I shouldn't have to come up with something else now. That would confuse me even more, and it wouldn't help the Tallest at all.

"And why am I on the damned _ground?"_ Red shouted. "A Tallest isn't supposed to touch the—"

"Look at your hands!" I finally hollered at him in response. Blunt was the only way I could be right now. Get to the point. Assess the problem, so we could work together on it. No matter what angle we took this from, one thing was clear: they needed my help now. How else would they get on, looking human? Stuck on Earth for who knew how long..?

"My hands? Why?"

"It might explain several things for you."

Red growled at me, then skeptically raised his hands up and looked down at them. I noticed, when he turned his hands over, that he had a long, clean scar on the lower knuckle of each thumb, where as an Irken the third finger had been cut off in the ritual that ascended him to the position of Tallest. I assumed Purple would have the mark, too. Shit... I'd have to check their backs, too, to see if they had the same crossed scar there, indicating that their PAKs had buried in, the same scar I'd had during the Warp, and knew instinctively I had again now.

Startled, Red yelped and stumbled back, his glasses sliding down the ridge of his nose a bit. "Impossible!" he cried. "What's going on?" He looked back over at me. "What happened to me?"

"Eh... um... I... I don't really know..." I said, suddenly feeling very nervous. I grit my teeth and slapped a hand to my forehead. _Get a grip, Zim!_ I scolded myself. _You're not like this, remember? You don't stumble over words, you know precisely what you want to say! Remember that? Remember?_

_ Remember..._

Suddenly, there was a flash in the back of my mind, and my sight failed me for a brief moment. The physical world dissolved, and my memory wandered...

It vanished after a moment and I held my head. Another flash came to me, this time feeling painful throughout my body. This time, the vision in my mind did not vanish immediately, and when I snapped back to reality, I could remember precisely what it was that I'd seen.

Unmistakably, it was a corpse. Human? Irken? That, I could not determine... but the chill that stayed on after the vision faded told me that what I'd just seen was indeed a dead body.

I cried out, trying to get the vision out of my mind. _Remember..._ a voice tried to urge me.

"No!" I shouted, slapping my hands over my ears.

_Don't..._ I thought to myself. _This is the last thing you need right now. Focus on 'now.' Focus on you, 'now.' Don't think about 'then.' You'll figure out 'then' later._

"Hey..." Red said, sounding concerned all of a sudden. I felt entirely embarrassed, knowing that I'd probably looked desperate and weak in front of one of the two people who actually had the power to judge me. I looked up at him, then shirked back. "What just happened there?" Red asked.

"Nothing!" I covered. "Nothing, my Tallest!" I sat up straight again and continued. "That's not important right now. What's important is that Tak did get her hands on that Talisman. I couldn't get it back from her in time, and she used it to take over. She used it to change you. I apologize for my negligence, and my haste, and..."

"Who... _are_ you..?" Red asked me, raising an eyebrow. "Why is a human so concerned about what's happened to us? What _did_ happen to us?"

"You're... human," I said apologetically. "Just like me. Well... not _completely_ human, but—"

"I'M WHAT, NOW?" Red yelled, enraged.

"I'm sorry!"

"Who are you? I'm going to fucking kill you!"

"It's me!" I shouted. "Just listen to my voice. I know it sounds different, but—"

_"ZIM?"_ Red spat.

"I'm sorry, my Tallest." Truth time. "Eh... I wasn't entirely honest with you, when you allowed me that new mission. See, I've been like this before. I don't mind it. Actually, I really like it. But, the fact that it happened to _you,_ sir... I never thought this would happen, but it has, and I know I need to help you." I shook my head, still in disbelief from everything that had happened that day. "I can't accept that Tak did this to you. I'm going to restore you to power, sir. I feel like I owe it to you."

Red's eyes widened. "Zim..." he began, looking at me skeptically. "You're..." He snarled and changed the subject immediately. "What do you mean, we're _human?_ I'm a fucking _Tallest!"_ he roared. "It's bad enough that I'm touching the ground, but now... how long is this going to last?"

"Longer, the more you yell," I heard Purple say.

"Huh?" Red wondered, looking over to his right. His expression changed immediately, and he backed away from his partner uncomfortably, keeping his distance. "N-no, you're—y-you're—"

"Red, what're you going on about?" Purple asked, uninterested. His eyes were that same gleaming purple, the color, the intensity, that soothed and chilled me all at once. As a human, though, there was another element to those eyes. Something about them was strangely alluring. The shape of them led me, just as an observer, to realize that he looked to be of Eastern Asian descent, rather than the untraceable Western European type that both Red and I had adopted.

The softer-spoken Tallest was sitting up rather awkwardly, leaning back and propping himself up with his arms, and was glaring at Red with his head cocked sideways, so his long bangs fell off to the side and didn't block his vision.

"Duh," said Red, gesturing to himself.

Confused, Purple looked away, glancing at his own legs. Doing so caused him to gasp, then cry out, sitting up and bringing his hands up in front of him. He pushed his bangs out of his eyes, which flared wide, pupils dilating, then shouted, "Are you kidding me?" Upon shouting, he then punched at his kneecaps and muttered, "Bleh. Yep, you're kidding me," he added, glaring up at the sky and squinting at the sun. "Ugh... what the hell just happened?" he then muttered, looking up at the sky, then shielding his almond-shaped, rather feminine eyes from the sun. "The sun's really bright here, isn't it?"

"Purple, uh—" Red started.

"What?"

Purple seemed to show absolutely no interest in their plight, and just started looking around, taking in our surroundings just as I had done, to get a feel for where we were. "Pay attention to me!" Red snapped. "And don't go changing the subject! Don't you realize what this means? It means that—"

Purple turned to look at Red, his unreadable expression remaining unchanged. "That you should probably admit that I was right," he completed.

"Bastard..." Red snarled, clenching his hands into fists, "how can you be so calm about this? Our bodies are worthless! Tak stole our power! She has one of the—"

Purple's eyes narrowed. "That means that the other two should be around soon enough," he said. "That was the Cabochon, right?" Red nodded solemnly. "I knew it. That's the one we needed, too." Purple looked down at his right hand again, and gave it an odd look. "So does this mean everything's coming true?" he went on. My heart thudded again. "About that Prophecy, I mean. What a stupid name for it, too. Prophecy. Control Brains have no imagination. Heh. Like that's a new thought. Anyway, Red, looks like we're in it now, and we need Zim to—"

Red made a quick slicing motion across his neck, looking petrified.

Purple blinked a couple times, then looked over at me and scrambled backwards. "Y-you're...?" he wondered.

I grinned nervously. "Hi," I said. "Yeah. I'm Zim."

Purple, surprisingly smirked. "You have no idea what that gem Tak made off with was, do you, Invader Zim?" he asked.

"Just Zim," I corrected him quickly. "I'm human right now. The relic Tak had did that, and that's all I know. I wish I could have prevented what happened to you, but I'm nowhere near powerful enough. I'm sorry. Don't use my title anymore. It doesn't sound right, and not just because of that. I, eh, I kinda like being human, and the 'Invader' part just sounds quirky when I'm like this."

Purple looked rather worried, then smiled—an action even more soothing with him being human—and said, "If you're dismissing your title, then I'm dismissing mine."

"What the hell are you saying?" Red snapped. "Don't you dare—"

"Just call us by name, for now," Purple went on, ignoring his partner. "If you refer to us as the Tallest, Tak will find us for sure. Even you can't argue that, Red."

Red shifted to sit cross-legged, and folded his arms. "If you insist," he snorted. "I suppose, for safety reasons, you're right."

Purple laughed at his partner's expense. "Now you need to admit I was right about—"

"First..." I cut in. The Tallest both turned to look at me. "You mentioned my name," I went on. "Something... a prophecy? Whatever you were referring to earlier, I don't want to know about."

"Zim..." It was Purple who said my name. Now that he was human, I could even more clearly see his compassion. While Red was indifferent, Purple seemed really concerned.

I sighed and stood, brushing myself off a little. GIR clung on to my shoulder, and I cracked my neck to both sides. "If you'll excuse me," I said, "I need to get readjusted to this body."

"Wait," said Purple, "come here."

A little confused, I did as he asked, and sat down beside him. Purple frowned at my right arm, then, without saying a thing, picked at a stitch on the hem of his left pant leg. His pants, I noticed, were a little baggy, and he quickly ripped off the extra fabric from that leg, tore at it a bit more, and quickly fashioned a makeshift bandage. "Give me your arm," he instructed.

Without thinking, I did. Purple rolled my sleeve up, his face contorting again when he studied the deep, jagged cut, and then tied the fabric around that spot, tying the ends in a knot that put pressure under the wound, to ease bloodflow. I was shocked, but relieved. The pain was indeed subsiding... but I'd never expected one of the Tallest to help me like that. I didn't question why he'd done it, or even how he'd come up with that solution so fast, because I was focused on something else:

"Aren't you mad at me?" I wondered, still in awe.

"We don't have time for things like being mad," said Purple kindly. "Go do what you need to do, and then... well... the three of us have a lot of things we should talk about."

I nodded my agreement. "Yes, sir," I said.

"No _sirs_ outta you, either," he warned blithely, grinning.

"Okay," I grinned. "And, eh, Purple... thank you. For..."

He waved it off. "Go readjust," he urged again. "We'll be here."

"Y... yeah..." I backed up, but asked quickly, "You guys'll be all right for a bit? I mean..."

"We need time to talk between the two of us, anyway," Purple shrugged. "And you probably don't want us to bore you with questions about being human quite yet." Well, that was true. "Get out of here before Red starts throwing a tantrum."

"HEY!" Red snapped.

"I'd say you have about twenty seconds."

"I don't throw tantrums!" Red argued with his partner. "Besides, you're one to talk, all, not wanting to fight _this_ way or take _that_ route, or—"

"That has nothing to do with tantrums, because I have common sense!"

"Oh, _screw_ common sense, I—"

"Come on, GIR, let's get out of here," I said, backing away to give the Tallest their space to argue things out.

I walked a few yards away, not wanting to stray too far, in case those two needed me. GIR hopped down and walked beside me, humming to himself, and I took the time I'd been given to just breathe.

The fact that Tak had taken off again was a good sign... she wasn't barging right into the Invasion. Then again, she'd said something about her plan being bigger, that the Invasion was just a distraction for the humans. Of course, part of that plan had been her becoming Tallest, and that much had happened so far. The time she was taking now must have been to gather followers. She'd have to go through the procedures of being inducted into her position, first, and she had even mentioned the Elite. Starting that back up again was sure to take time.

I wondered about Larb, Zee, and Skutch, all of whom had been iffy about Tak. Would they go along with whatever she came up with, now that she was Tallest? After all, Irkens had been blindly following Tallest orders for years. Why change now? I was especially worried about Skutch, though. Skutch, who wanted his Tavic weapon back, who lived just to better himself, to climb ladders until he became a more ideal soldier. I hoped it wouldn't happen...

And then, my own position became clear.

No matter what, as far as this war was concerned, I was human. With Tak as Tallest, I was anti-Empire through and through. Plus, she seemed bent on using that position to oppose me personally, and she knew just how to attack the things that set me off. Which meant I'd have to find my way to Gaz soon. I had to find her, apologize, and apologize, and apologize, and hope that we could still connect. Even if we couldn't, I wanted to keep her safe through this ordeal. Because I loved her. And I loved being human. And even though I had the Tallest to look out for, even though I found myself to be the match that lit the fuse that started this oncoming conflict, even though there was still so much I didn't understand...

...I wasn't going to let this opportunity go to waste.

– – –

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**Author's Note:**

Just one chapter this week, but it's one of the chapters I've been wanting to get to for a loooong time! :3 I love this one; hope you did, too! ^^ Enter the Mandylion, namesake for the Saga~ She's an odd one... Things are really getting going now! And we're almost done with Part One…

So, speaking of that, heh, remember how I said this was to be the penultimate post? I totally lied. This is the third-to-last. I realized, going through, that I want to divide up the updates just a tiny bit more, but trust me, I'm dividing them up for good reason~~ ^^

And thank you all soooo much for the awesome reviews/comments! I was happy to read the reactions re: The Box~! Zim's starting to realize what he's doing, just a little… (and he did indeed go through a _lot_ of paper :3).

Next **Friday, June 24****th****,**I'll be updating the _actual_ penultimate chapters to Part One, meaning the whole thing will be up come July! More coming on Membrane, the Haynsworths, Nacea, Tenn, and of course, Gaz and Dib… so much happening as we get closer to Part Two~~! :3

Let me know what you think so far~! See you next week! ^^

~Jizena~

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	23. Changes Finale 2: Static Around You

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**Author's Note:**

_Invader Zim_ is -c- Jhonen Vasquez! Only the events of this story, characters specific to the story, and character tweaking (heh) are mine. :3

~Jizena~

– – –

_Dib's Records_

In the weeks that followed their arrival, I made rounds to the foreign reps' labs to check in with them, to be sure they had everything they needed, and to see how they were getting on in general. In particular, I kept in conversation with Brakem, who was grateful for the increase in numbers for the army. I never really checked in on their progress, but I sat in on a training session one day in late June so I could get a feel for everyone's strengths and weaknesses.

I even took part in that session, taking the opportunity to spar with Nacea and Tenn, pleased to find that we'd all improved. Nacea's improvement was in her comfort with her temporary human form—her movements were fluid, almost dancelike; yes, it was obvious, watching her, that she was not human at all, though she utilized the strengths, the reaches and limits, of the human body to her advantage. She was still primarily against fighting, however, and made remarks constantly during that session so that everyone could hear her point of view. "I fight only for protection," she told Brakem and many of the others. "You see, the Irkens destroyed our sister race. It is the wish of our Chairman that our society not fall as the Kalleck empire fell long ago. Hence our willingness to train others in our abilities."

Tenn had caught on quickly to Meekrob abilities, and was the clear winner of our little match that day, though I hadn't done too badly. Nacea congratulated and hugged me afterward, before being whisked away by some of the visiting representatives to be asked questions about her society. Nacea was friendly, gregarious, and answered as many questions as she could. Tenn, however, hung back with me, and scoped out the crowd before accepting any questions.

She had been quiet for a while, now that I thought about it. "What's up?" I asked her. "Everyone's dying to hear more about the Irkens. Hell, even I have a lot to learn still—"

"Yeah, I know," said Tenn, arms folded, eyes unreadable. "And, look, I know I'm obviously the authority on that and everything, but here's the deal, Dib: I trust you. _You._ And even your bratty little sister. I trust you guys, I trust Nacea, I even trust that woman, Charlotte. I don't trust everyone here yet. I don't know them, and frankly, I don't really want to, because knowing too many people and sucking up to people, and telling people what they want was all Irkens are ever supposed to do, anyway, and frankly, I'm kinda sick of it. I've always preferred smaller groups. Hope you understand."

"Um... sure," I told her. "You'll stick around for the rest of the training, though, won't you? Just in case, you know, maybe there's someone or other you wouldn't mind also talking to?"

Tenn smirked. "You have someone in mind, don't you?"

"Two people?" I grinned nervously.

Tenn submitted, since I hadn't been hiding my secret fascination very well.

Ever since the first day, I'd begun tailing Professor Haynsworth almost as obsessively as I'd once tailed Zim. That man was an enigma. I didn't just want to know more from him... I _needed_ to. He'd known my dad. Check that, he'd known my _parents._ Both of them. I could barely remember my mother, and here was a man who could potentially tell me everything. Hell, I barely knew the parent I _did_ grow up around. So I tailed the Professor, hoping to learn something. Days and weeks of it, though, and I still came up cold.

Talking to his daughter was no easy task, either. Even with her being Gaz's roommate. Alexandria Haynsworth just did not seem interested in talking to me. She'd usually be in the same office as her father, or in the music room practicing her violin. I never really went near the music room, having little interest, so it would have been stupid and obvious of me to show up there, demanding questions about her elusive, secretive, endlessly intriguing father.

And unfortunately for me, I hadn't seen them yet at the training session. I tried not to show my disappointment, since I really did have a lot to be proud of in the rest of the representatives. Everyone was, as expected, highly skilled.

While each new member had specialties, it did seem that they all had one thing in common: expertise in using a gun. Some close range, others far: Munira and Tae-Hyun had already teamed up together and made a great close-range combo, while Miroslav and Mathieu seemed to be the best pair of snipers—I got the sense that perhaps those two had worked together before.

In the middle of the demonstration on the outdoor firing range, however, just as I was getting myself queasily used to the sight of flying bullets, a target was hit, dead center, by a sleek black arrow. The action gave everyone pause, and I turned—as did several others—to see, standing a good distance away even from the snipers, the piece previously missing from the action... Professor Haynsworth. With an air of regality, he smiled and began reloading a beautiful wooden crossbow, taking another arrow from a quiver strapped to a belt round his waist. He was still dressed quite professionally, but his daughter Lex (as he called her) stood beside him, holding his suitcoat. She smirked over at me, her expression clearly reading, _"Watch this."_

The Professor had fully reloaded, took aim again, and hit the exact center of someone else's target. "I dislike guns," he said calmly as he lowered his crossbow. "I prefer being a bit more creative on the battlefield."

"That was amazing, Professor," I complimented him, my eyes wide in awe. I stood barely fifty feet away, and I had to hold myself back from approaching any further. That crossbow looked ornate and possibly antique... I wanted a better look, but for the sake of looking professional I had to stay put.

The Professor smiled over at me, accepting the compliment. "Lex?" he then prompted his daughter, who handed back his coat.

Strapped to her back, too, was a crossbow, smaller in size than the Professor's, and made of a different wood, and strapped round her waist as well was a similar quiver. The now-seventeen-year-old Lex, dressed that early summer day in a green tank top and denim shorts, tied her hair up into a high ponytail with a quick flick of her wrists, set up her crossbow faster than Tenn could pre-set the spider legs from her PAK, aimed, and fired four arrows in succession, each hitting clean into a deadly point on a target dummy several yards away: head, heart, neck, chest.

My reaction this time was somewhere more along the eloquent lines of, "Holy shit." I quickly cupped a hand over my mouth, and Lex shot me a glare.

"If you're _that_ impressed," she spat at me, "I'm even less convinced you're the person for this job."

"Lex..." her father sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration, messing up the alignment of his thinly-rimmed glasses as he massaged that area between his eyes.

"What?"

"Darling, be gracious," he cautioned.

"Daddy, it doesn't take much to impress a child."

"I'll be fourteen in a little over a month!" I fought her.

"Oh, coming of age!" Lex scoffed, slinging the crossbow over her shoulder again. "And what weapons are _you_ proficient in, oh grad leader of—"

Angrily, I gathered up, with a breath, an orb of energy in my left hand and shot it, with another breath and a hell of a lot of focus, at the dummy Lex had fired her arrows into. My own shot completely decimated the thing. "I don't need weapons," I glowered at her.

Lex, for a moment, almost looked impressed, but at that moment, Nacea's voice rang out: "Dib!" I turned to see Nacea taking long, quick strides up to me. Before I could say a thing, she grabbed me by the wrist and dragged me off and away from the firing range.

"I, uh—keep drilling!" I shouted back over my shoulder. Nacea tugged harder. "Just keep up the good work!"

"I do not like being angry," said Nacea, fighting herself to remain calm as she continued dragging me back toward the main building, which took us in a route by the lake.

"So what gives?" I asked her. "Let go of my wrist if—"

"I did not give you the use of our abilities so that they could be flaunted and used as competition!" said Nacea, sounding hurt. She didn't turn to look up at me, nor did she stop walking. "You are not to win bets with energy, you are to respect it!"

"I do respect it!" I tried. I attempted to slow us both down, but there was no stopping her. Nacea had never shown anger. While I would call this something more along the lines of frustration, it was still something that didn't come out in the Meekrob often. I'd always sort of thought of Nacea and her people as kind of a monk... very trained in her ways, very stoic, very respectful. I'd never thought it could be in her nature to get sore about anything. So, of course, it sucked that I was the one she was mad at. "Nacea, I do, okay? Listen to me! I do respect it, and I respect you, I just—"

"You _just—_you _just_ used a highly-trained technique to prove a point!" Nacea cried. "Beyond that, you referred to it as a weapon. You know, Dib, that our abilities are not weapons. We do not _fight,_ Dib, we _protect._ That is what we Meekrob do, it is what we always have done. We protect _knowledge,_ we protect our ways, we—"

"Nacea, stop!" I shouted, planting my heels into the ground. "Look, I'm sorry!" She finally stopped as well, and loosened her grip on my wrist. When she turned to look up at me, I realized that I'd recently grown a little again. Nacea never grew. As far as I knew, she couldn't. And I'd told Lex something true: I was almost fourteen. I'd told Nacea when we'd first arrived at the complex that thirteen was the end. What the hell did fourteen mean, then? I felt, in that moment, more disconnected from Nacea than I had in... well, a very long time. Ever since she'd shared her abilities with me and Tenn, we'd bonded more and more, but the more trained I became in the techniques, the more I was able to grow and use them on my own, and really make them mine, the less I seemed to rely on her, the less I felt I needed her guidance. And the more I, even subconsciously, saw her less as a teacher and more as a little girl.

"Are you truly sorry?" Nacea asked me. "Do you truly respect what I have given you?"

"Yes!" I insisted. "Nacea, I do. You've given me the ability to do something wonderful, and I can't thank you enough for it. I apologize for being selfish with it, I just... I get angry. I know you don't like violent emotions and all, but I _do_ get angry. I'll just be more careful not to combine the two anymore. Okay?"

Nacea searched my eyes, then dropped my wrist and sighed. "Yes," she said. "I have put a lot of trust in you, Dib. My Chairman has. Our people have. Your Corporation has put a lot of trust in you. Please, whatever is coming, do not let anything change that. Do not betray any trust you have been given... not any, at all."

The comment made my stomach flip, and my nerves went haywire. "Nacea," I said, sitting right down in the grass beside her, prompting her to join me in a similar fashion, the way we'd always sat side by side when focusing energy at certain intervals of my training sessions with her, "what are you talking about?"

"I am talking about your ability to lead, Dib," she said, in words beyond the look of her years. It was so horribly easy to just see Nacea as a child. She hadn't spoken out like this in a while, and it scared me, to a point. Everyone around me was always being so cryptic, and I shuddered to think that I was very soon going to find out why. "Your ability comes from the trust you have been given. Everyone respects you. Respect them, as well, the way you respect the energy in the air around you."

"Nacea, no offense, but you're freaking me out."

Nacea closed her eyes and bowed her head. "Change is coming," she told me. There was nothing chilling about her tone, nothing dark, nothing ominous. But I was put on edge all the same. "Accept it, when you can. Trust is not something to be fooled with. Everyone who trusts you does so for a reason. Betray none of it."

"Are you talking about someone in particular?" I wondered.

"I cannot tell," said Nacea, looking at me again. "I am adept at reading energy. I am proficient in reading yours. There is a static around you. There are many others who rely on you. There are those who love you, those even who claim to hate you..."

"Nacea, stop it," I demanded. "I have no idea what you're talking about. What kind of change?"

Nacea smiled warmly, and all she said was, "You are growing up. You have told me so yourself. You are growing up, and you will soon begin to discover all that you, Dib, are capable of." With that, she stood, touched her soft, light hands to either side of my face, gave me a simple, bright, friendly kiss, and then walked back to the main building and disappeared inside.

I sat in the grass for another several minutes, feeling nothing but confused.

The kiss was something she had meant to be reassuring, even if it did throw me off a bit. It didn't happen again for the rest of the summer. In fact, just as Nacea had warned, summer, my birthday in particular, was to be an agent of change.

– – –

– – –

**Author's Note:**

Hiiiii~! ^^;;;; Sorry for the ridiculously late update (and at that it isn't a very long chapter…), but time really got away from me this last week..! I hope you saw the announcement I put up in my profile! I mentioned that I would update tomorrow (Sunday the 26th) and I _do_ have another chapter that will go up then as well, but I wanted to post something tonight, too! :3

Again, many apologies for the late update, and see you again **tomorrow, June 26****th** for the second half of this week's post! And thank you all again so much for your continued readership and fantastic reviews! I loved reading the reactions to last week's chapter..! :3

~Jizena~

– – –


	24. Changes Finale 3: Mom

– – –

**Author's Note:**

_Invader Zim_ is -c- Jhonen Vasquez! Only the events of this story, characters specific to the story, and character tweaking (heh) are mine. :3

~Jizena~

– – –

_Gaz's Records_

The air seemed to get heavier and heavier around me every day after my thirteenth birthday. I couldn't explain how or why I got that feeling, but whatever I did, wherever I went, it seemed as though something was hanging over me. It wasn't until July that I figured it out.

Dib's fourteenth birthday was coming up. That meant ten years. Ten years exactly.

On my brother's fourth birthday, our mother left. I could barely remember the details surrounding it, and the days before it and after it were hazy... after all, I was only three at the time. I could remember our mother, sure, if only a little. I'd felt even more connected to her once I swiped that photo of Dad's from his room. I kept the photo beside my bed, as a matter of fact. Whenever Dib came in to check on me, I tucked it away, since I felt like keeping Mom a secret... also since I felt like talking to Dib about it might upset him, and if there was one thing my brother needed less of that summer it was stress.

One July evening, I had the room to myself. Lex was often doing work with her father, and I never really asked what kind of research they did. I knew they were vampire specialists, so I figured it was something along those lines. After all, the Professor did still run his own branch of the network, even from overseas. I marveled at how that man could multitask without going crazy, like my own father.

I spent the evening in various ways, but inevitably it rolled around to me aimlessly plucking chords on my guitar, and then that degenerated into a long stretch of silence, during which I sat upright on my bed, nervously twisting the ring Zim had given me around and around on my finger until I could feel the heat from the friction.

"Come on," I found myself whispering as I fiddled with the ring, "hurry up, would you? Something doesn't feel right..."

Now that was an understatement. Nothing had felt right for a while. And as much as I wanted to talk to Zim, I was pretty angry at him, too. He hadn't been in contact. He'd sided with Tak. The list went on. But still, I wanted someone to talk to. He'd been so good to listen... so affectionate, so kind... I needed something like that again.

I sat up and glared at my calendar. It had been months. Dib's birthday was a week away. Everything was moving fast, almost too fast. I wanted someone to shake me and make me dwell in the present, just for a second. Every day, I either obsessed about the past or worried about the future. Just once, I wanted to have a day of just... living. That, I was too quick to learn, was much too much to ask for.

Lex returned that evening just as I began to get sick with the need to talk to someone about anything, and, oddly enough, she was in the mood to listen. First, however, she had some bitching to work through:

"Your brother is out of his mind!" she fussed at me the second she came in the door.

"I'm aware of that," I agreed, sitting on my hands so I'd stop playing with the ring. "Why, though, exactly?"

"He's mad with questions!" Lex fumed, shutting the door and walking over to set a stack of books and papers down on her bureau. "My father has good reason for his secrets, thank you. Could you let your brother know that?"

"Oh, jeez, is he getting all weird and obsessive?" I wondered. "Dib does that. He gets on something and he can't let it go."

Lex sighed, kicked off her sandals, and sat down with a forced sigh on the edge of her bed. She looked right at me, green eyes wide and focused, and confided, "My father let slip a bit of information on... well, on the past. You know that our fathers were, well—"

"Were what?" I wondered.

Lex groaned. "You don't know?" she asked, sounding put off. "See, this is exactly why I'm so mad at your brother! He doesn't know a thing!"

"Look, don't take it out on Dib," I snapped. "If we don't know anything about our father, then that's _his_ fault, not ours! Dad was never home. Dad barely ever talked to us, the whole time we were growing up. Last year, he started getting kinda weird and reflective, but, seriously, Lex, we don't know anything. He knew your dad? Really?"

"You _honestly—"_

"No!" I burst. "Don't get mad at Dib if _that's_ what he's obsessive about. I would be, too, if my brain worked like his does, which thank God, it doesn't. But still..." My heart thudded, and I glanced over at the photo of my mother on my bureau. I scootched forward so that I sat on the edge of my bed, clutched my sheets tightly, and took a deep breath. I'd never thought to really delve into my family history before, but now that all these weird secrets seemed to be coming out, I figured I'd start asking questions, too. "Lex, how'd our dads know each other? Please, just tell me something."

Lex chewed her bottom lip, then grabbed a pillow only to toss it back against her headboard. "That's just the thing!" she practically shouted. "I don't know what I'm allowed to say!"

_"Allowed?"_ I wondered. "Lex, what the _hell?_ This is _Dib's_ Corporation... you should..."

"But it goes so much deeper than you're thinking!" Lex insisted. "I don't... look, I'm sorry, Gaz, I..." After a slight internal struggle, Lex bowed her head, groaned, then got up off her bed, walked briskly over to mine, and sat down beside me. She commanded eye contact again, then said, "I've been sworn to silence since I was seven years old. I can't break that, now, and I apologize. What I can tell you is that answers _are_ coming, Gaz, I promise." She drew in a deep breath, smiled just a bit, and added, "I will say this, though, since I hate being forced to keep too many secrets. I'm right to explode any second. Our fathers were classmates."

"Classmates?" I wondered, choking on the word.

Lex nodded. "At Oxford, for one term," she confirmed. "Your father was studying abroad. From MIT, I believe, correct?"

I stared at her, wide-eyed. "I have no idea."

To my surprise, Lex laughed a little, covering her mouth with one hand as she did so, so I couldn't see her grin. "Sorry," she apologized, "but... you really don't know... anything about your parents..?"

"Look, I was three when they broke up," I told her. "Then Dad started getting obsessed with his work, and Dib and I raised ourselves. Mom walked out, Dad went crazy, the end. It was like there was no 'before.' Know what I mean?"

Lex sighed out on a hum, looking distantly guilty. Ever since Lex had moved in as my roommate, I'd been trying to figure out exactly how I perceived her. She didn't give me much to work with, but I'd figured out the basics: she had slightly obsessive qualities herself (she took the vampire research very seriously), she and her father were very close, and she was nice to me but almost awkwardly angry around my brother. Lex had, I'd deduced, a lot of her own stress to work out. For the most part, I figured that she was angry about having to pack up, leave her life in England, and come over here to be a part of the Corporate branch, which was run by Dib, and not by my father, as she and her dad had originally thought.

If Professor Haynsworth and my father really had been classmates once, I thought, the Professor must have been at least a little interested in Dad's inventions, and had the passing hope that Dad might use them for something useful. But it was too much to ask Dad to have anything to do with the supernatural. Sure, sometimes his inventions bordered on the uncanny, but his blatant disgust toward whatever Dib always talked about was reason enough for me to figure out what his opinions were.

"That's her, isn't it?" Lex guessed, snapping me out of my thoughts.

"Huh?"

My roommate nodded over to the photo on my bureau. "Your mother."

"Oh," I said, picking the photo up and holding it up on my lap, "yeah."

"Could I see?"

My fingers clinched around the small metal frame, as if to protect Mom from anyone else, but, after another glance at the gorgeous snapshot, I relinquished the photo to Lex, who was very careful in the way she handled it. She didn't touch the glass, barely even got a fingerprint on the frame. She held it from the back, and let herself get a good look. "She's very pretty," Lex complimented me.

"Yeah..." I muttered. "Wish I remembered more about her."

"You never heard from her?" Lex wondered. "After you were three years old?" I shook my head. "That's a shame," she said, looking at me again. "Were you close?"

I shrugged. "I mean, I was three, like I said," I told her. "I remember Dib really loved her, and of course I did, too, I mean, she was my _mom,_ right? I remember that she sang a lot, and she played the piano. Dad got rid of the piano after she left."

"And you don't know why she did?"

I sighed, and hugged my arms in closer to me. "No," I confessed. I didn't say it, but I was grateful that Lex was there, and that we were on the subject. For so long, I'd been wanting to work out my mixed feelings about my mother: my anger at her for leaving, and my deep want, fueled by lingering love and admiration, to know why. "Dad never said anything."

"Hmm..." Lex was silent for a second, then said, "I wonder if that would have been better for me, as well... to just watch her leave and wonder forever..."

"Huh?"

"Oh." Lex shook her head and sat back. "My parents divorced when I was seven years old. Amelia, my mother, walked out of the house after an argument with my father, and then a week later mailed him her ring and a stack of signed legal documents. She said nothing to me then, but over the years, she's written me letters, and every so often, I see her. I don't like her; she's a very selfish woman who, I'm convinced, only married Dad in the first place for his family name, for his history. I'd rather not see her, so I wonder if it would have been better if I never had the option."

I was at a loss. This was the most anyone had confided in me since Zim had talked over his insecurities with me during the Incident. After he'd done that, I'd thought of him as a friend. Was that friendship? Trusting another person with such heavy information?

"I'm sorry," I tried.

"It's all right," Lex dismissed. "I am sorry for you, though. You did have a relationship with your mother. I'm sorry that was interrupted. It seems, at least, that you had your brother, despite it all..."

"Hey, Lex?" I ventured.

"Mm?"

"Just a question, about Dib," I said. Lex sighed and rolled her eyes, but let me ask it. "You're mad because he's a kid, right? A kid in charge of this whole thing?"

"That's part of it," she admitted.

"Well... I'm even younger than he is," I pointed out. "But you talk to me like a friend. Or, well, not like I've really had many friends before, not like I'm any judge of it, but it seems like..."

"Oh." Lex took one last look, then handed me back the photo as she leaned over her knees. She untied her messy ponytail with one hand and slid the elastic around her wrist as her brown hair fell over one shoulder. Lex was seventeen, and had had, as far as I knew, a fairly normal upbringing. She'd had a good relationship with her father all her life, had gone through (she had told me once) an all-girls school for a well-intentioned education, and had already had two boyfriends, neither of whom she told me much about (but both of whom she would mutter and complain about on occasion, particularly the more recent one, Jonathan, whom she apparently still had mixed opinions about). Compared to her, I was... highly abnormal. I'd never minded that, I even prided myself in being different. Being around her so much, though, reminded me of the Incident... how I'd handled being fifteen for a week. Now that I was two years off from that actual mark, I'd been wondering on and off about the kind of person I'd really grow up to be. Would I change views at all? Especially now that I was here, at the Swollen Eyeball, surrounded by and even slowly taking some interest in Dib's paranormal work. If Lex could have a normal enough life around it, it couldn't be all bad, right?

"Gaz," said Lex, choosing her words slowly, "I'm sorry. Perhaps my anger is unjustified, but your brother does get on my nerves. It started off as simple anger toward the fact that he honestly does not seem quite ready to take on this job, considering how little he knows, but now that he can't let up pestering my father..."

"I get that," I shrugged. "But, I mean, I don't annoy you cuz I'm a kid, do I?"

"No," she answered, laughing a little, again covering her mouth when she did. "No, Gaz, you don't annoy me. You will if you keep up asking me, though."

I smirked, gently setting the photo of Mom back on my bureau. "Okay," I said, "noted."

– – –

The heaviness in the air continued each day for the rest of the week. I thought about calling my father once or twice, until I realized that would most likely make things worse. That, the fact that I would even _consider_ that, was proof that something was scaring me. By August 7th, I'd only slept a total of about three hours a night, tossing and turning due to more than just summer heat, and that morning at breakfast, I was shaking.

On and off, everyone that lived in the main building would come together for breakfast in the small but fully-stocked kitchen that was part of the common room between the two dorm hallways. I generally preferred eating alone, and would sometimes just take toast to my room, but that week, I took care to eat breakfast with Dib, even if we didn't talk.

He looked like he hadn't slept much, recently, either. For him, it was probably due to the stress of developing the network into a Corporation, plus putting up a good image for all of the visiting members, plus stalking Professor Haynsworth. Dib and I were alone in the room that morning... Tenn and Nacea would sometimes be out there with him, even though Tenn never ate our food, and Nacea ate very little, but they weren't out that morning. Lex was already awake and, sprawled out on her bed, nose-deep in a book that she was angrily trying to translate from Italian. She had a thick Italian-English dictionary next to her, chewed her pencil frequently, and muttered something about 'getting facts right' about some ancient vampire thing or another, and showed no interest in eating breakfast yet. So that left, possibly for the best, my brother and I on our own.

"You look really tired," I stupidly observed, first thing.

"Is it that obvious?" Dib, who had grown another inch since summer had kicked off, looked more than just tired: he looked dissheveled. His oddly-styled hair was a mess, his round glasses were set askew, and there were tell-tale dark circles under his eyes. He had both hands around a large mug of hot black tea, and a pot sat on the island counter beside him. At nine o'clock, he was still in his pajamas, which was saying something about his work ethic for the day (usually Dib was dressed and doing things by eight, oddly enough). "I'm exhausted."

"You're working way too hard," I cautioned. "Don't be—"

"—Like Dad," Dib finished, muttering and downcasting his eyes. "I know, I know. Trust me, I have no intention of that. It isn't just work, though. Sorry." After a pause, during which I could think of nothing to say, my brother observed, "You look really tired, too."

"Can't sleep," I shrugged, forcing a spoonful of cereal into my mouth. When that didn't help, I swallowed and dropped my hands into my lap. In a new idiosyncracy, I felt for my right ring finger, then kicked myself mentally when I remembered that I didn't wear the ring to bed... and I certainly never wore it around Dib. "Um... hey..." I finally said, bringing up the dreaded subject, "part of the reason is, um..."

"What?" Dib wondered, trying to sound kind through his exhaustion.

"It's been feeling really... heavy, lately," I told him.

"Heavy?"

"Like the air. Or a pressure on my chest."

Dib stared down at his tea, took a sip, then set the mug aside and said, "You too, huh?"

"Huh?"

"I mean, I feel it, too," he said, looking right at me. I'm sure we both looked a sight at that moment. Both of us confused, lost in our own way—we were both tired... tired of being fed half-truths, tired of being kept from knowledge that should have been ours, tired of having to piece things together on our own. "I've kinda felt it since we left home, since I shouted at Dad," my brother admitted. "I've been forcing myself to be kinda head of the household, if you know what I mean. But it's gotten too big, and I mean, Lex Haynsworth is right, I _am_ just a kid, but Nacea's right, too, I _am_ growing up, and..."

"Dib—"

"And this shit has been piling up for ten fucking years!" he finally snapped. Fed up, Dib propped his elbows up onto the counter and grabbed at his bangs, his forehead resting on his palms. "It's like I've had this pressure on me for ten years, now. It's been ten years since Dad went crazy, ten years we've been alone, ten years since..."

"Since Mom left," I finished. Dib dropped one hand and stared off at nothing.

After a moment, he muttered, "I've been trying to get stuff out of Professor Haynsworth for a while..."

"Yeah, I know," I said. "Lex keeps telling me."

"She must be pretty pissed at me, huh?"

"You could say that. She says you keep trying to find out more about Dad."

Dib shook his head, and my heart skipped. "Not just Dad." I held my breath, and glanced back at my shared bedroom door. I wanted to talk to Lex more than ever. She'd held that picture of my mother, commented on her, said some kind things, but... "Professor Haynsworth knew her," Dib went on. "He knew our mother, Gaz. That alone convinces me that..."

"That what..?"

Dib groaned, and shoved off from the counter. He began to pace the kitchen, still angrily grabbing at his bangs, alternating that with massaging his temples in frustration. "I don't know!" he growled. "Maybe I'm not convinced! I don't know! But you're right, the air's been way too heavy, lately, and I think it's from all these annoying secrets piling up! I don't get it! But it has to do with her, I know it does. And I'm believing more and more that _she's_ the reason I'm in on all of this at all..."

"This?" I wondered. "You mean, the Network?"

"Maybe not the Network, but the paranormal in general. I know this much about Professor Haynsworth: his wife left him for a lot of reasons, but the main one was that she didn't agree with his research in the paranormal. What if it was the reverse for our parents, Gaz? What if Dad _made_ her leave?"

"But he wasn't so crazy before—"

"I know, it's... there're a lot of holes, but... it would make sense, wouldn't it?" Dib stopped pacing, and walked right up to me, then sat down on the stool beside me. "Okay, here's what we know: ten years ago, Mom walked out. Since then, Dad's been covering something up. What if she left for study? What if she traveled? What if she's not—"

Oh, fuck.

"What if she's not—"

We never discussed the obvious possibility. After all, we hadn't physically _seen_ Mom walk out. Dad's story had always been scattered, and sometimes different. Ten years without word from her. We knew what the obvious answer was. We just never said it aloud.

And we sure as hell didn't want to bring it up right now.

"I..." I began, when Dib found himself frozen in fear for not wanting to bring up the idea, "I swiped a photo of her from the house..."

"You... you did..? How? Dad got rid of—"

I shook my head. "He still has pictures." Remembering that night I'd almost caught a full glimpse of him, back during Dib's journey to Meekrob, I added, "He talks to them."

"What the _hell?"_

"I know," I said, "I couldn't really figure it out, either."

"That... doesn't seem like something Dad would do..." said Dib, looking a bit more alert. "Are you sure..?"

I nodded. "I caught him. This was when you were... traveling..."

"Huh. I'd like to—" At that moment, Charlotte Baudelaire walked into the room, dressed for the day and fully awake, a folder and clipboard tucked into the crook of one arm. "Hi," Dib segwayed, jerking his head over toward her.

His spokeswoman gave him an odd look. "Did... you forget that we have a meeting this morning?" she wondered.

"Shit... kinda?"

Charlotte sighed. "I understand that you are under a lot of pressure, sir," she said, her voice low and even. "If you need to take the day off, I advise you that now is the best time."

Dib let his eyes meet mine, and I shrugged, to say he could do whatever he wanted. Charlotte's choice of words worried me, but maybe I needed some alone time that day, anyway. After about a minute, Dib gave in. "I'm coming," he said, taking one last sip of tea. "Let the Board know I'll be there. I just have to get dressed. Maybe shower," he added after a second.

With a worried glance, Charlotte nodded and left. Before my brother wandered of, as well, he said to me, "Let me see that photo later. I'll find you once my day winds down."

"Take it easy," I cautioned him. "I mean it."

"Mmhmm."

And with that, he was off.

No longer hungry, I disposed of the rest of my cereal, wasteful as it was, and slowly showered and dressed, making a ritual of sliding the ring on as well. Lex was still in the room while I was accessorizing, and she just had to take note.

"Where'd you get that ring from?" she wondered. She'd made some headway in her Italian book, but there were several crumpled papers lying around her that hadn't quite made it to the waste bin at the foot of her bed.

"Oh, this?" I said, awkwardly pointing it out on my right ring finger.

"Yes, that one. I've seen you wear it before. It's beautiful. It wasn't your mother's, was it?" Oooooh, Mom came up yet again.

"No," I said, "a friend of mine gave it to me."

"A _friend?"_ Interested, Lex set her pencil down and sat up, completely ignoring the text in favor of taking in gossip. Her hair, up in a messy semi-bun that day, waterfalled over her head now that she'd shifted position, making her look something like a crazed librarian. In a way, she kind of was. Lex was always pawing through books and doing research, and her hair, no matter how she put it up, was always a bit messy, if even just sporting some flyaways. It was the only really 'crazy' part about her, since otherwise, she seemed so down-to-earth (the earthtones she constantly wore helped) and normal; most of the other Swollen Eyeball nutjobs dressed the part, so to speak. Tight blacks and lab coats, that kind of thing. I was fortunate enough to be in the company of the more normal ones. I liked being more of the one that stood out—and I was still the only Goth around, even though lately I'd become a little more lax with my wardrobe (primarily in footwear, since I _was_ growing a little; I wore flats at times, not always boots). "A _male_ friend?"

"He happened to be, yeah," I said, twisting the ring around.

"Thirteen and someone's given you a ring like that?" Lex grinned. She covered her grin a little with one hand. That habit annoyed me a bit. She wanted to smile, why didn't she ever show it? "Does he work around here?"

"No," I said. Oh, ugh, I didn't _sigh_ when I said that, did I? I hope I caught myself before I did—can't remember. "Actually, he's... away. I haven't seen him in a really long time."

"How old were you when you got that?"

"Ten. Technically."

"What?"

"Ten."

"It's gorgeous, though!" Lex exclaimed, rising and walking over to me. "Do you mind if I take a look?"

"Um..."

I hadn't shown it to anyone, I realized. I didn't feel comfortable sharing it. It was mine. It was Zim's private promise to me. I wouldn't be able to explain it to anyone else, especially someone so apparently disinterested in the Invasion. Lex wouldn't get it. And if one person saw, perhaps Dib found out next?

Nonetheless, I held my hand out, so Lex could take a look. She didn't even touch my hand, just peered at the ring from her own natural height. I appreciated that about her. She was obsessive about her research, but she wasn't too nosy into my business, or anyone else's. Behind a lot of her abhorrent bitchiness, Lex was pretty polite. I just had yet to figure out exactly what her deal was.

"It really is beautiful," she said, green eyes gleaming. She and her dad had such interesting eyes. My mom had green eyes, too, but it didn't even cross my mind as a similarity, since mom's were like emeralds; Lex and Professor Haynsworth had foresty eyes, like moss or a thicket of trees in summer. "What's the stone? I've never seen it before. I've come across several odd stones in vampire lore and European myths, but never anything like this."

"Might just be a weird kind of crystal or diamond," I shrugged, hating that I was depreciating the ring that meant so much to me. "I have no idea."

"Well, whatever it is, you're lucky to have it. What's he like, then?"

"Huh?"

"The _friend_ you received this from." Lex was giving me a knowing smirk, which she didn't hide at all. She was quite pretty, but she just looked impish when she smirked like that. She smirked at Dib a lot, to show that she knew more than he did about something. Just as it was with me, though, smiling was something Lex wasn't caught doing.

"Uh... just... Lex, he's just a friend," I dismissed. "He was nice. All that usual stuff."

"Mm_hmm._ So tell me, when's he coming here?"

I glanced down at the ring, then clasped my hands behind my back and found myself muttering, "Not soon enough, apparently."

– – –

Dib's schedule ran him right into evening, but at around seven, he knocked on my bedroom door. Lex was back into her research after we'd both slacked off outside for the day. I'd watched her take some practice shots with her crossbow after lunch, during which time she'd told me she'd learned how to use the weapon at around age twelve, when she first accompanied her father on a field mission. Vampire hunting and research was really a _lifestyle_ for them. I sort of envied that.

"Hey," my brother greeted when I answered the door, "sorry about that."

"Dib, you're gonna wear yourself out," I said. He was all washed and dressed and looking presentable, sure, but he still looked tired as hell. "Tomorrow's your birthday. You'd better take the day off. I mean it."

"I will, I will," he said. I didn't believe him. "Look, it's been bugging me all day. Could I—"

I nodded and stepped back to let him in. "Dib's coming in," I told Lex.

"Lovely," she mumbled, scrawling something out in Italian in a notebook before flicking through the dictionary to translate it. "I don't want to be interrupted. _Sir."_

"Whatever, Miss Haynsworth," said Dib, rolling his eyes.

"Ugh," Lex scoffed.

"What?"

"Dib, for the love of God..." I groaned, trying to shove him toward my side of the room.

"No. Clearly, I've upset someone. _What?"_ he demanded of Lex again.

"Look, if you're going to patronize me—"

"How am I patronizing?" Dib snapped. "Look, you get pissed off when I call you 'Lex,' you flat-out ignore me when I call you 'Alexandria,' and apparently I patronize you when I call you 'Miss Haynsworth.' What do you want? 'Hey, you?'"

"Right now I want you to shut up talking to me so I can finish this research!" Lex barked back.

"Just come _on,"_ I snarled at Dib, tugging him over to my bureau. "Sorry, Lex, I'll get him out of here soon."

"Don't let her run the show in here," Dib whispered to me. "It's your room first."

"I respect her, though, she's the only friend I have here," I whispered back, cleverly sliding my ring off and tucking it away before Dib could catch sight of it.

"What was that?"

"She's the only friend I have here." I glanced up at Dib at that point, and found that he looked a bit more relaxed; he even showed a ghost of a smile. "What?"

"Just... glad you're making friends," he admitted.

"Mm. Anyway. Here," I said, taking the photo from the nightstand and handing it to Dib. "Mom."

And then Dib didn't say anything for a good two minutes.

He took the photo in his hands, even more gingerly than Lex had when I'd shown the thing to her, and his face went blank. Then, slowly, a different kind of light crept into his expression. His eyes sparked up, making him look much less tired; the red in them that had remained since the Incident looked just as natural now as the hereditary brown always had. His expression started out dour, and then became just... sad. Dib pressed his lips together tightly, so as to show no emotion, but in doing so, I saw right through him.

He missed her. We both did. We missed a woman we didn't even know. We missed her because she seemed like a fantasy. She was a piece of the life we could have had, and we mourned the upbringing we might have been offered almost more than we mourned the woman herself. Mom had brought life and sanity to our house. Without her, Dad was unstable. Without her, we'd had no direction.

"I-It's like... this is all the confirmation I need..." Dib said quietly, looking back at me as he gave me the photo again.

"How can you call this closure?" I wondered. "There's still a lot I want to know."

"Yeah, same here," said Dib, "but..." He shook his head. "No use skirting around it anymore, though, Gaz. She's—"

"Don't say it," I warned him.

Dib's eyes narrowed. "You know it as well as I do! She's dead! She has to be!"

"Not necessarily!" I fought him.

"Think about it. It's the only thing that makes sense. It's been ten years, she's dead, let's drop it!"

"Oh, my God!" I practically screamed. "I can't believe you'd come in here just to start yelling _that_ at me. Jeez, Dib. Sorry I upset you! What the hell's your problem?"

Dib just frowned and looked away, brooding. He'd held in feelings about the family for way too long. That plus the heavy air around us plus his overworking had made my brother a time bomb. And incredibly irate.

"You look too much like her," he then said, sounding more angry at himself than anything. "I have to get out of here."

"Dib what the _hell?"_ I spat at him.

But he'd reached his limit. His exhaustion caught up to him, and every bit of anger poured out. "I can't be worried about this right now!" Dib exploded. "We have the Invasion to plan against! I have to try to figure out what the fuck Tak and Zim are up to! I have so much else I should be doing, stop distracting me!"

"Dib, we can't run from it—"

"We've been shut up for ten years, what difference does it make to ignore it for ten more?" With that, he took his leave.

I looked over at Lex, who had sat up during the argument. She gave me the most apologetic look I'd ever seen, so I took that moment to give her a courteous nod and follow Dib out. I took one more look back at the photograph of the woman I loved but barely knew, then followed my brother at a safe distance.

He picked up his pace a bit as he left the main building to walk to the dojo on the other side of the complex. I hid as best I could behind one of the walls, and looked in on what was going on. Tenn was already in the dojo, drilling privately in hologram, and upon entering, Dib shouted at her, "Let's spar, Tenn. Now!"

"I'm not—"

"I don't care! Just fight me, would you?"

Before Tenn could object, my brother attacked her. She blocked his punch just in time; he wasn't holding back. Over and over he struck, ruthlessly, showing no signs of stopping or even slowing his pace. Tenn could only block for so long, and soon her hologram started flickering. She was eventually weakened to the point that, the next time Dib kicked out, she couldn't block at all, and went flying into the opposite wall. He'd struck with such force that it left an indent in the wall. Tenn slid to the ground, hologram flickering, holding her head.

"What's wrong?" Dib shouted angrily, tears forming at the corners of his eyes. "Get up! Get back up and fight me! Get _up!"_

"I'm a living being!" Tenn snapped, standing shakily and solidifying her hologram again. "You can't just beat me up like that if I'm an ally and friend. What do you think you're doing?"

"Never mind that!"

"Dib, you're crying."

"No, I'm not!" he refuted, ignoring the tears streaming down. "Fight back, dammit!"

"I'm worried about you," Tenn said, raising an eyebrow in confusion, but stepping up to fight him nonetheless.

Dib and Tenn continued to fight for a while, even though she could barely fight back, let alone keep blocking his moves. All the while, tears were falling from my brother's eyes. Eventually, Tenn fell again, and this time it looked like she couldn't get back up, or even hope to continue fighting the way she had been.

"Get up!" Dib yelled at her.

"Forget it," Tenn said. "I can hardly keep up my hologram right now. Fight someone else, Dib, jeesh. What's gotten into you?"

"Nothing!" Dib snapped. "I'm fine!"

"Liar," Tenn snorted. "Come on. I'm not going to fight you anymore, but I'll talk to you. You think you can handle that? Just talking?"

"Oh, I'd _love_ to talk!" Dib shouted. "I'd love to talk to a lot of people about a lot of different things! I'd like to talk to my Dad about how fucking crazy he is. I'd like to talk to the Haynsworths, and Charlotte, and the Trujillos about my parents. But you know what? They won't talk to me! They _won't,_ for whatever stupid reason! I'd like to talk to your leaders, too, Tenn! I'd like to give them a piece of my fucking mind! I'd like to talk to that stupid Zim for _fucking up everything,_ and—" Finally, he broke down. Dib stormed over to a wall, smashed one fist against it so hard he bled, then sat down, hard, and pressed his back against the wall, his knees tucked up, his head buried in his hands. "Shit..." he muttered. "Goddammit..."

That was when I figured I should go in. I gave Tenn a twitch of a smile, which got her a little confused, since I rarely showed anything resembling a smile, especially around her and Nacea. She took it as a sign, though, and left to find other things to do.

"Hey," I said, walking up and kneeling beside my brother.

Dib lifted his head, then sighed. "Sorry," he apologized.

"For what?" I wondered. "You're pissed off. I know what it's like to be pissed off. Dib, you never let off steam. You should, so shit like this doesn't happen."

"I guess," he groaned. He bit his lip, then looked right at me and said, "I just want to know if she is or not. You know? For closure."

"I know," I agreed. "I want closure, too. D'you have any mediums, here?"

"I don't trust mediums."

"Oh. Can Nacea—"

Dib shook his head. "Nacea can't talk to the dead." Oh, fuck, oh, fuck. The word was out again. Saying it, though, seemed to make my brother wake up a little. "She must be," he repeated. My stomach fluttered; I felt sick. I knew it, too, I just always liked entertaining other possibilities. "Even so, I'd still like to know what she did when... when she was alive." That said, Dib stood, and I followed suit. "I'm gonna go talk to him."

"To who?" I wondered.

"Professor Haynsworth, who else?" said Dib, angrily. "I'm sick of all this talking in circles and riddles. I need to know who Dad is, who Mom was. I just want to learn _something,_ so I can move on and get everyone prepared for the Invasion."

As he started to leave, I asked, "Hey, Dib?"

"Huh?"

"Do you really think Zim and Tak are still working together?" I had to know.

"They must be," he answered. Dib seemed incredibly sure of a lot of things, but I wondered how much he was faking. He'd always been overly confident, and sometimes it had annoyed me, but his self-assuredness kept him going. There were just some things I didn't want him to be right about. "Trust me, as soon as I'm done talking to the Professor, I'm getting right back to my research. I'm gonna get in contact with the Empire, and we're going to settle this once and for all."

And that was a great goal and all, and I'd stand by him. Because he was my brother. But too much still seemed wrong. I didn't want Zim to be on that side of the war. I didn't want to possibly learn something about Dad that might make me hate him even more than I already did... I didn't want _Dib_ to hate our dad any more than he already did. I didn't want the Professor to let him down, I didn't want to jeapordize my slowly-forming friendship with Lex, and I certainly, more than anything, didn't want to lose Dib to his obsessions.

But he left the dojo that evening, he walked back to the main building, and I watched him leave, and the air felt far too dense. My ears rang, my heart thudded, I felt queasy and sick and alone. And I had an awful, sinking feeling in my stomach.

Why?

My feet began moving on their own, and I stared straight forward as I walked back to the main building myself. Even as I walked on, with every step, I felt it. And I hated it.

Why was I suddenly so afraid that I was never going to see my older brother again..?

– – –

– – –

**Author's Note:**

Weekend's second post is up! And with that, there is only one more chapter to go in _Part One: Changes!_ :3 I can't believe it's already the end of part one… but there's so much still to tell, and I hope you all stick around to read the continuation! ^^

Thank you all again sososososo much for your understanding my awkward schedule this weekend~! From now on, I'll try to have more foresight prior to posting/delaying. :3

Your reviews and comments keep me so happy! ^^ I'm glad this story of mine is being enjoyed~~!

See you all again this **Friday, July 1****st****!** My goodness, we're into July already… it's crazy. Finale's coming~ :3

~Jizena~

– – –


	25. Changes Finale 4: My Humanity

– – –

**Author's Note:**

_Invader Zim_ is -c- Jhonen Vasquez! Only the events of this story, characters specific to the story, and character tweaking (heh) are mine. :3

~Jizena~

– – –

_Dib's Records_

I walked with silent, heavy strides back to the main building. My mind was buzzing and my temper was shot. To be honest, yes—yes, it did bother me that I had grown up to be such an angry person. I realized that I was a lot to handle, and that I was a little set in my ways, but I had damn good reason to be angry. I just couldn't help feeling that everyone around me was put off by that. Tenn hadn't deserved the shit I'd just thrown at her. Gaz needed more emotional support. Nacea had come right out and told me that she didn't like me being angry and violent, and Lex probably had the most justified reaction to me being a dick just by being a bitch right back. Mid-adolescence is no time to try running a Corporation. It's no time to pretend so Goddamn hard to be something you're not.

Especially when you've never known what you are.

At the ten year mark, I couldn't hide it anymore. Deep inside me was a kid who missed his mother. Who missed out on childhood, who spent several nights alone wondering where she could be, what she was like, who she was, and if she ever thought about us in return. Because Dad and I were always at odds, I'd wondered on and off if perhaps Mom really had been the one more like me, a scientist of the paranormal, someone with vision and drive.

At the ten year mark, I wanted answers. I needed answers.

So I trudged onward, past the front room, past the dorm hallway, back into the grand hall through which I planned to beeline it to Professor Haynsworth's office. I wasn't going to take "You'll know soon enough" anymore. At fourteen, a kid shouldn't have to be lied to. I deserved to know the truth. Everything. I deserved to know who my parents were, and, therefore, who I was supposed to be.

And wouldn't you know it, I was destined to find out. Just not the way I'd planned.

Before I could reach any of the other rooms in the grand hall, I noticed that there was a door wide open. It was the door that had, until that night, been closed and locked at all hours. Oh, I'd tried to sneak in there once or twice, since it was such a Pandora's Box to me (a locked door in my own damn building, of _course_ I'd try to break into it), but now it was open. Inviting.

My questions for Professor Haynsworth could wait.

Cautiously, I crept forward, afraid that the door could swing closed and bolt itself shut if I made myself known. It was a good thing I was using caution, too, since I realized upon approaching that the room was not empty. Two distinct figures stood inside, toward the far wall. Before I could be noticed, I slunk off to the side and hid myself against the outer wall, to the left of the doorframe. Questions were racking up in my mind, but I had to shut my brain up and focus on the present, for fear I might miss something.

A dull murmur came from within. The two figures were engaged in conversation, and the voices were both ones I knew all too well.

"It's a little... conspicuous, don't you think?" The voice belonged to Agent Cthulhu, and he sounded, oddly enough, a bit confused. Cthulhu was a man who seemed constantly sure of himself, ever in the present, always aware of everything and everyone around him. To hear him hesitate, even knowing so little about the man, was strange.

"Well," said another voice, this one belonging to none other than my own spokeswoman, Charlotte Baudelaire, an awkward, lilting laugh added to her inflections, "you knew them as well as I did. Maybe even better. Would they have wanted it any other way?"

"Ugh," Cthulhu grunted, "don't make it sound like we're still friends. We fell out a long time ago."

"You still have the tattoo, Rico. We all do."

"Hmf." There was a long pause, and I held my breath this time, hoping the thundering sound of my heart thudding nervously inside my chest wouldn't give away my location. Then, just as things couldn't get any more foreboding, the Senior Agent recited: "The die is cast."

"Let's hope it's a lucky roll," Charlotte sighed. "God knows we all need it."

"I've got more faith in Dib than his father," said Cthulhu, as if in argument. I clamped my mouth shut so I wouldn't accidentally react.

_What the hell?_ I thought, wanting something, anything to come into the light for me. _First Charlotte and the Professor, now even Cthulhu? Dad, who the hell are you..?_

"It's his birthday, though," Charlotte pointed out. At that point, I really wanted to scream. Couldn't risk anything now, though. I had no clue whether or not I was supposed to be hearing this conversation, but something told me not to fuck with it. All I could do was hold my breath and wait. "I hate to say it, but Richard's passing couldn't have come at a better time."

"The old man would've resigned, anyway," said Cthulhu. "At least around this year."

Okay. Facts. I had to piece this together. Richard meant Richard Dyer, better known to me all these years as Agent Darkbootie, from whom I'd inherited the Swollen Eyeball as a whole. Charlotte and Cthulhu—Rico, to her and probably everybody else—always had been in on some bigger picture, holding secrets from me until some unmentionable time. As for all the signs—the door being wide open, the two talking so obviously about me, and even my father... I could only assume that 'that time' was now.

The evening before my fourteenth birthday.

I closed my eyes and took in a deep, silent breath, trying to remember this exact date ten years prior. It didn't do much good. I'd shut out memories from 'before' for so long, it was like watching someone else's life. Using a Meekrob trick for heightened concentration, I breathed deeply again, and made myself focus on one thing.

Her.

Where was she, that night? Figure out where she'd been, I'd know where we all were...

_Evening. Late. My father pulled into the driveway. None of us had spoken, the entire drive. Gaz was too tired, and had fallen asleep on the seat beside me in the back. I sat quietly, watching my feet as I dangled them over the black leather car seat._

_ Dad turned off the ignition, and the silence continued another minute. "Come on," he said finally, his voice straining to sound composed, "let's put the kids to bed. We'll talk about it more inside."_

_ "Charles." The sweet, sonorous lilt belonged to her. To my mother. My mother, who set her left hand on my father's shoulder before he could exit the car. I saw the flash of the diamonds in her engagement ring on her long, thin ring finger. "We need to talk to them, as well," she advised. "They have every right, dear."_

_ Dad forced a sigh. "I know that. They just shouldn't have to find out like this. It shouldn't have to be their burden."_

_ "Mom?" I asked from where I sat listening. "What's a burden?"_

_ My mother patted Dad's shoulder a couple of times, then got out of the car. I heard her heels clack on the paved driveway as she walked around to open my door. With utmost care, she undid my seatbelt and hoisted me out of the car, then held me close. "It won't come for a long time, yet, love," she tried to assure me._

_ Much later into the evening, after a patch in my memory, I recalled walking down the stairs a bit when I overheard my parents talking in the kitchen. I hid from view, but made little sense of their words._

_ "It's the way things are, Charles!" my mother was shouting. "Things are as they must be! It must happen this way. You need to realize this."_

_ "Nothing 'must be,' all right?" Dad snapped back. "You've been talking that way for years. Take responsibility as a parent first! Dib and Gaz need a mother!"_

_ "And so they will have one, when I'm needed again."_

_ "What about what I need? You can't just come and go as you want. That's not how things work."_

_ "But it's—"_

_ "How things 'must be?' Do you have any idea how irritating that sounds?"_

_ "Just make this time count," my mother pleaded. "It won't be long until—"_

"She's coming tonight, isn't she?" Cthulhu's words snapped me out of my memory, and this time I drew in an audible gasp. My eyes snapped open, and it took every last ounce of willpower to get me to not barge into the room at that second. "She's always kind of rubbed me the wrong way. Hope I don't have to talk to her."

"That's polite," Charlotte reprimanded. "But don't worry, Rico." The voices were getting closer, so I flattened myself against the wall. "I have a feeling she only wants a word with Dib."

"This is going to change everything, isn't it?"

Charlotte was silent, then said, as the two walked out of the room, "Come on. Victor will know what to do."

I slunk in through the open door before Charlotte and Cthulhu could see me. Strange, I thought, that they were heading to the precise location I still planned on visiting once I'd seen what was so damn great about this room that it had to be locked all the time. Of course, now that they were gone and I could breathe, I started growing tense.

There was no way they were talking about anyone but my mother. And based on the memory I'd just had, the real answer really did seem like the split had been an argument. Not a death. Mom was alive.

No time to think about it, though, since the second I straightened and began to get my bearings, several sets of eyes were on me. Eyes of oil. Paintings. Dozens of them.

"JEEZ!" I yelped, stumbling backwards. "What the hell?"

Charlotte, Cthulhu, and probably several others were bound to have heard me, but nobody came. The door was wide open, but I was very much alone. Alone in a room full of portraits. Portraits, yes... and empty frames.

A large plaque hung on the far wall, under which I noticed the portrait of a familiar face. A smaller plaque was fixed underneath it, and I approached closer to read it. "Richard Dyer," it read in gold enamel. "Codename: Darkbootie." The portrait depicted him exactly as I remembered him, in his old age, white hair thinning but still wild, eyes hard and focused. Underneath his name and codename were displayed his birth and death dates, as well as the years during which he served as leader of the Network.

"What the hell _is_ this room..?" I wondered aloud, as I am wont to do from time to time.

No sooner had I asked the question than the door swung shut and slammed behind me, causing me to turn out of alarm yet again. As if on a timer, the lights clicked out, then came on again at a much dimmer setting, making the portraits much more difficult to see. I took in a deep breath, and asked forth a ball of light by extending my left palm. My heightened concentration, thanks to the Meekrob gift, allowed me to borrow energy from the air for the purpose I needed, and soon I had a light source bright enough to make the portraits more visible.

The larger plaque read, "Swollen Eyeball Network, est. 1986. Board Memberships..." And then lines of names were listed, but the portraits spoke for themselves. I recognized so many of the faces, and I followed them down the wall, taking very slow steps, so as not to miss a detail. The faces were younger, of course, but I knew them.

Charlotte Baudelaire. Joined, 1987. She still wore those rose-tinted glasses in her portrait, but her hair, still dyed blue, was a bit longer, spiked out but reaching her chin, rather than clipped quite short.

Federico Trujillo. Joined, 1989. Anita Trujillo. Joined, 1989. Harrison Brakem. Joined, 1995. And so on. And so forth. Everyone. And then, as I was getting close to the end of the wall:

Victor James Haynsworth. London Branch Founder, 1988. His portrait looked so different, and yet so similar to the man I was dying to learn more about... the man I was desperate to learn much more from. In his younger years, he was clean-shaven, did not require glasses, and had a slightly more mischevious look about him. His daughter Lex was practically his mirror. His green eyes had hardly changed, though. They had seen more now than they had at the time of this painting, but were just as earnest.

And then the final two portraits on the wall. Something told me I should have been prepared to see this coming, but all the same, my heart skipped, I choked, and I stumbled backward, aghast, afraid. "No..." I heard myself saying as I raised up my left hand for a better look. "Impossible... impossible! That's not—can't be—"

Oh, but it was. I read the plaque underneath for confirmation:

"Professor Charles Membrane. Founder of the Swollen Eyeball Network, 19-"

I couldn't read the rest. My eyes had welled up with tears. "DAD?" I exclaimed, hardly believing it.

Sure, I didn't _want_ to believe it, but standing there, frozen, I realized I had to. The name proved it all, even though the portrait looked strange to me. It was well over a decade old, but still... it showed my father's face. It proved that my ambiguous father was human after all. In that still memory, my father looked very young... there was personality there, and not just the dryness I'd known him to exert while I was growing up. More than anything, he looked _real._ More real in an oil painting than he ever seemed to be in real life.

I dropped my hand and sat down heavily. My mind was far more than blown. Even in the darkness that had closed in when I had dismissed the light I'd created, I could clearly see the image in that portrait. It was a portrait, well-done, of a rather young man, and one whose features could, at a quick glance, be confused with my own. For a minute or two, I remained there in silence, burying my face in my hands, my eyes glued open.

"Dad..." I repeated to myself in a loud whisper. "Dad founded the Network... Dad did this... he set this whole place up, he... is... such... a fucking... _IDIOT!"_ I then found myself shouting. "You hypocritical, life-stealing asshole!" I shouted at the portrait. "This doesn't make any sense! You—you bastard, you—" I was out of words. Out of profanity already. Out of my fucking mind.

My father, 'real science' extremist, the man who was too busy to give me the time of day, the man who shrugged off the supernatural as figments of the imagination, had once loved that forbidden subject so much, he'd created a worldwide organization to study it.

So, for the love of God, why?

Why give it up? Why try to turn me against it?

"Why didn't you tell me?" I hissed up at the portrait. No wonder he had known people like Charlotte and Professor Haynsworth. No wonder Lex had thought he'd be in charge. Still. No wonder she was so angry at me for 'not knowing...' not knowing that, maybe, my name really was something to be proud of. That 'Membrane' had once stood for something so much more driven, so much more important... "Why did you stop? When did you..?"

Wait. My mother. More answers would come if...

I gulped and, not getting up, conjured up another orb of light and raised my hand again, looking at the portrait to the right of the one of my father. My eyes widened when the subject was illuminated. Within the frames was painted the likeness of a beautiful young woman, with high cheekbones, thin, expressive green eyes, and a dark but winningly curved mouth. Her long, light purple hair fell carelessly over her shoulders; the light from my palm seemed to give her life.

"Mom..." I whispered.

I sat back and looked up at my mother's portrait for a moment. Doing so, I began to miss her as much as I had when I was a small child. Gaz really was starting to look like her. I continued staring up at the portrait, giving it a much more thorough look than the photograph Gaz had shown me mere minutes ago, trying so hard to remember what my mother had been like. She was kind, I remembered that. She loved music and ballet... hadn't she gone to the theatre once or twice with friends of hers and Dad's? What were their names..?

The corners of my mouth twitched upward a little on their own, and I sighed, wishing more than anything at that moment that I could've known Mom better. I remembered Dad being at least tolerable if not fun when she was around. He read to her, didn't he? And she to him. They acted like newlyweds right up until Gaz turned three. And Mom always, always made me feel better, no matter how bad a day I could have had.

Her portrait was lovely, and well done, and yet I felt that it barely did her justice. In my memory, Mom was beautiful. Her bright green eyes didn't shine in the painting as they had so long ago. Her smile was just oil on canvas.

"Mom..." I choked out.

I closed my eyes and brought myself back, as best I could, to another of the last days I'd spent with my mother, ten years before. We were outside, with a large journal she'd been making records in for what I assumed were years prior to my birth, complete with illustrations of the most wonderful sort. It was a reference book (which sometimes, I now remembered, my father had added to), containing information on paranormal activity the world over. It was Mom's life work, and my old obsession.

_"How many of these have you seen?" I asked her, marveling over the pages, not daring to turn them for fear they would break._

_ "Quite a few, dear," she answered, turning the page. "One day, you'll know more than I do, I'm sure. You have a very bright future, Dib."_

_ "I know what this is," I announced, pointing to an intricate illustration of a black dog. "Gwareth Anwyn."_

_ My mother laughed. "Yes. You learn so fast, Dib." Kissing me on the forehead, she added, "You'll be grown up before I know what to do."_

_ I laughed, because I was innocent._

_ "Show me more," I begged, flipping through the pages._

_ "All right, my love. Would you like to hear a poem?"_

I hardly knew her, I realized. I'd never even known her name. Now, years after her unexplained disappearance, I wanted to know. Moving my hand a little, I told myself to read the plaque under her portrait.

"Miyuki Isomäki."

My heart skipped, and a lump formed in my throat.

I read the plaque again.

"Isomäki." A Finnish surname. Right. Yes. Mom was Finnish. That was the story. Mom was from Finland. Mom's parents were from Finland. Mom spoke Finnish.

Mom also spoke Japanese. And Italian. And French, and Portuguese, and Greek.

"My mother was from Finland," I said aloud. Only a cracked whisper came out. "My mother was from Finland." I closed my eyes, breathed deeply, let it out, then opened my eyes again to confront the plaque. I had to convince myself that I'd read her first name wrong. So I read it yet again.

And it read, in gold enamel, plain as day: "Miyuki."

My mother's name was Miyuki.

So help me God, my mother's name was Miyuki.

"WHAT THE HELL?" I screamed. I stumbled backward, and as I caught myself on the ground, the light from my hand went out, leaving me in the dim light of the room. The air around me felt heavy and strained. I couldn't feel my heart beating, and I was struggling to breathe. "No, no, no, no, no, no, no," I said to myself, rushing the syllables together as I shook my head. "L-look, it's a Japanese name. M-maybe Mom was half-Japanese? Yeah. Yeah. That's it. My mother isn't—"

"Hello, Dib."

I yelped and whipped around, terrified. It was her voice.

It was my mother's voice.

Shakily, I lifted my head, gasping when I saw the figure before me. It was a woman, her features shadowed by darkness, a soft light surrounding her.

"It's been a while," she said.

I scrambled to my feet and conjured up an orb of energy in each hand, preparing to fight. "Who are you?" I demanded. "What do you want?"

The woman stepped further into the room from the doorway through which she had come. "Please," she requested, "lower your hands." I did as she asked, but backed away from her all the same. "My name is Miyuki," she said, smiling. The overhead lights in the room flickered and popped back on, as if she'd cued them with a verbal key. She was suddenly illuminated, her face in full view. Yes, it was a face I knew. It was a face I hadn't seen in person for ten years. "I am your mother."

I paused for a moment, lost in the want for her to really be that amazing woman from my past, the one who loved me unconditionally, but left too soon. She looked to be the right age, in her late thirties or early forties; she was wearing a long blue dress with strapped sleeves; a sash of a lavender hue was tied round the empire waist, and the ribbon flowed back, blending with the color of her hair. Tied mostly up in a large, loose bun, her hair was indeed the same shade as that in the portrait, though one streak of grey ran throughout, beginning just above her left ear. Her eyes were a perfect, sparkling green.

A part of me had always wondered what I would do if I ever saw her again. As it turned out, I became defensive, and angry. The portrait and plaque certainly had not helped. After confused, I was just plain enraged. I was right: I did not know my parents. All my life, I had been shielded. Dad, I realized, had never outright lied to me, but he had ignored me, avoided me for the sake of never having conversations about the past. About his old work. About his wife.

"NO!" I shouted, backing away from her. "Don't say that. If you're my mother, where have you been? Where the _FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN?"_

"Away," said Miyuki, sadly, in that unmistakable, lovely, lyric tone. This voice had read to me. This voice had consoled me as a child, when I'd been afraid. This voice had haunted me throughout my continued childhood and into adolescence, a ghost in my memory. "It is a long story, but I was unable to reach you."

"Dad got so screwed up!" I hollered at her, not letting up despite my inner desire to let go and cry. "If you're really my mother, as you claim you are, why did you leave? Dad got so unstable he forgot about us! Gaz and I raised ourselves! I don't have a mother! Especially not one whose name is—whose name is—"

"Is the same as another you surely know by now?" she guessed, to finish my thought.

Miyuki was incredibly, terrifyingly calm. I felt frozen. I'd never been so afraid. All of a sudden, I had no idea of what I should do. There were no answers. I felt like I had nothing. That everything I'd ever wondered was for nothing. That all my years of Irken research were nothing.

"What," I demanded, my voice shaking to show my fear, "is going on? Who and what are you?"

Miyuki attempted to take another step closer to me, and I responded by backing away once again. She looked hurt, but she persisted, until she had walked me into a corner. I found my back against a wall, and had nowhere to look but her unfaltering emerald eyes. "I," she began as an answer, her voice chilling me much more than it soothed, "am your mother. The story of how I came to be here, of how I came to know and love your father, is a long one, and one that you will learn over time." I had no idea if she was _meaning_ to be that creepy or what, but she was definitely succeeding in making me feel uncomfortable, and even nauseous.

"Get away from me," I commanded, forcing my eyes to narrow.

"You are my son," said Miyuki, as if that was answer enough, "and you are hours away from being fourteen. Fate took me from you, Dib, ten years ago, but this, at last, is the year you will begin to learn everything. Isn't that what you want, love? To know the truth?"

"Nope! Not anymore!" I snapped at her. "I'm kinda fine being confused now, thanks. Get the hell out of my way. You aren't my mother. You're... you're... I'm just going crazy!" I shouted, pushing past her.

"Why do you say that? Why be content with no answers?"

"I won't take answers from someone named _MIYUKI!"_ I hollered back at her, pushing onward toward the door. After all, I still had a destination to reach. This room was nothing but trouble. This room was a mirage. Had to be. I had to get out of there and talk to someone I knew was real. Talk to Professor Haynsworth. Talk to Charlotte. Suck it up and call Dad.

Just then, there was a blast of blue light in front of me. Check that, a blast of blue light was _shot_ at the spot in front of me. When it hit, I yelped and jumped back. The source was obvious. I turned, shaking yet again, to see that Miyuki's right hand glowed blue, and that she was repositioning herself from having dealt the strike. I stared, wide-eyed, at the woman, whose expression had turned somewhat guilty. The blast was not like the Meekrob bursts of energy I had been practicing; it was more precise, like a straight shot from a laser. Like a shot I'd seen come from an Irken PAK.

"What are you?" I demanded of the odd, terrifying, familiar woman.

She tried to smile again. It lacked the meaning that had been captured in the photograph, and hinted at the beauty caught in the portrait, but it still gave me chills, because I knew it, in the recesses of my memory, so well. "I have stories to tell you," she said. That intoxicating accent, that melodic voice... it was her; it _was her,_ but... "I'm sad that it seems your father never did."

"Yeah," I said testingly, holding my ground, "well, as I said, Dad went kind of _completely insane_ when I was a kid. All right. You've got answers? Fine. Tell me, just..."

Miyuki changed her stance, so that she stood tall—and she was quite tall; taller than I was at the time, anyway—with her thin shoulders squared, her hands clasped where they fell lightly in front of her. The light of the room seemed to reflect off of her smooth, pale skin. I saw my sister in her. I saw myself, as well. I also saw something around her: a soft aura the likes of which no other human I had come across possessed. Hers was more like a mix between the average energy I read from other humans, and the quirkier one I got from Tenn.

"I was 'fourteen' when I was found and adopted, here on Earth," the woman began. "I had a rather, as one would say, 'normal' upbringing... but for the fact that I was still tied to the life I had led until then."

"Don't..." I tried. My voice barely sounded. All these years being shielded from the truth... no wonder. No wonder I wasn't told when I was younger. I could never have handled this then. I was barely keeping hold now.

"In that life, I was presumed dead. I was succeeded. I had nowhere to go... nothing to do but to start again. And then," she said, "I was brought here. And—"

"Give me the whole life story later!" I said, finally able to yell again. I was glaring at her. I could act as unfazed as I wanted, but my feet wouldn't move. My heart was drumming against my chest. I wanted to run from the truth a little longer, but... "I'm asking who you are! I mean it! What 'other life?' Why do you share a name with that ex-Irken Tallest?"

"Because, dear," Miyuki answered solemnly, her eyes attempting to show pity, "I am that ex-Irken Tallest."

"SHUT UP!" My vision started to cloud. My eyes were tearing up. I was losing my grip. I had spent my life researching the supernatural, embracing the impossible. But this was further than I had ever wanted to go. "I've gotta get out of this room. This is an illusion. This is a lie. You shut up and take that back."

"I can't," said Miyuki. "It is a part of who I am. And a part of who you are, too."

My heart stopped.

It just... stopped. I wanted the whole damn world to stop. I lowered my head and tried to make myself stop breathing. The words echoed in my head, ripping me apart, freezing my core. And to make things worse, Miyuki spoke again. "You and your sister were both passed traits from your father, and from me," she said. "I carried you, body and soul human—"

"That isn't possible," I hissed. My hands clenched into fists, but weakly. I did not look up at her. "Irkens are clones. They can't even reproduce on their own, let alone cross-breed. Sorry, _Miyuki,_ your story doesn't add up."

Driving the damn blade deeper, so to speak, she replied, "Not Irkens, no. But every race has a counterpart." That got me to lift my head and stare at her again. Hadn't Nacea said something like that? The sister race to the Meekrob had been destroyed, but every planet had, yes, a counterpart. Then that meant...

...Fuck...

We were on the brink of war with our own..?

The Invasion went so much deeper than I'd thought, indeed. Were Zim and Tak aware of this? Were their Tallest? Was _Tenn?_ Furthermore, what about my Board? Charlotte, Cthulhu... the Professor..?

...Dad? How much did he know? How much was that man hiding?

"Every race has a counterpart," Miyuki repeated, "and I was fortunate to find my own. And to find love, and be granted a soul." She brought her left hand to her chest. The diamond was still there on her finger. "I earned my soul for the right to be human, but my past never left me, so I am torn. That is why, Dib, this must be your time to step forward. For you and your sister to finish the plan I started, so many years ago."

"Plan..?" I wondered. "Plan of what..?"

Miyuki dropped her hand and approached me yet again. This time I didn't back away. "Irken liberation," was her answer. "That entire race falls slave to the machines we created to govern society. Even as Tallest, I had very little power. Even I had a life in servitude to them. It was my plan to end it."

I was now shaking. Everything she was saying was interesting, to a point, but this all boiled down to one thing. And it was one thing I just could not accept. "Shut up..." I found myself saying. "I'm not finishing anything for you. I have too much to do here. We're going to _war_ with the Irkens—"

"But there is no reason you could not use your inner abilities to bring an end to two conflicts at once," Miyuki insisted. "You're the son of an Irken Tallest, Dib, and an intelligent, influential human as well. What does that tell you?"

"That my life is more fucked up than I ever thought and we are _so done talking!"_ I shouted. "I'm human, all right? I live here. I have to protect Earth. I have to raise up this Corporation so that others can learn, and we can win this fight."

"Yes," said Miyuki. "And I can help you. Dib, you need to train your abilities or one day they will catch up to you, and the result could be awful. I realize that I have been gone these many years, but you must believe me when I tell you that I was unable to be at your side.

"This is your time to awaken your potential," she went on. "Believe what you will, dear, but the truth is that you, you and your sister both, have exactly what it takes to keep peace between sides. I can teach you all you need to know. I can tell you everything behind who you are."

"Great," I muttered. "Wait... what did you say there, before? About things catching up to me and..?"

Miyuki's expression turned grave, and that, God knows how, solidified everything she had been telling me as the truth. That look made me believe her. That was an expression I'd seen on other women before, and even on my own mother, far into the past: the look that a mother gets when her children are threatened. That look told me that this woman cared about me, whether we connected or not. "I am not," she said somberly, "going to let the machines take my son." My heart skipped again, and I choked on my breath. "You have Irken blood in you. The Brains will try to find you. Please, come with me. Let me train you before the parasite can take premature hold. It will benefit you in more ways than one."

I shook my head in disbelief. "I... I'm... not... Irken..." I managed to fumble out.

"Not entirely, dear, no," said Miyuki, "but enough to be called to arms if the machines wanted you."

Machines. Irken machines... "Miyuki..." I found myself saying, "is it... i-is it possible for Irken robots, SIR units, to be made from the same controlling pieces as the Brains..?"

"It is not impossible."

MiMi.

Tak had, at her side, all this time, a remote, active part of the Control Brains. And she had already tried to take me once. Whether or not Tak knew was debatable. But MiMi did. She knew what I was. What we were. And she'd come after us, bringing the Armada with her. The Invasion really was about Earth. About taking down the counterpart and becoming the victors.

I clinched and ground my teeth. Goddammit, this was resolve. I was submitting. But I was not about to let Tak win. Something now told me, too, that Zim was sure to oppose her, sooner or later. Especially if he were to learn about Miyuki.

About my mother.

Wouldn't he be _pissed._

But then, of course, he'd been human, once, too. Fuck, fuck it all, if he were on our side again, I had to admit it, we'd have yet another advantage.

"What about Gaz?" I asked Miyuki. "Aren't you going to train her, too?"

"Your sister's time will come. Tomorrow, you are fourteen." Miyuki—my mother, the Tallest—extended her right hand. "Come with me. I promise, you will not be gone long."

"Where are you taking me?" I demanded.

"Someplace less distracting, to begin your training. You have known your father's lineage. Now, I must awaken you to mine."

"I..."

"Don't you want to protect what you can? I can help you."

I did. And it wasn't even that I wanted to protect everything. I _had_ to. On the condition that I wouldn't be gone long, I had to take this opportunity. Oh, yes, my mind was still one big buzzing clusterfuck of confusion, but the threat of the all-powerful Irken machines was enough to make me at least give this a shot. During the Incident, MiMi had weaseled a piece of an Irken parasite into me for a brief moment of time. It had terrified yet exhilirated me; it had been a chill and a rush. But a human mind can't withstand an Irken parasite. I had to trust that Miyuki could shake me of that weakness.

I had to trust that my mother knew what she was doing. I had to bite back my fury, and accept what I was.

Hesitantly, I took her hand.

As I felt a wind rise up, I realized... she was _teleporting_ me. In the midst of it all, I realized that everything I'd always stood for might have been a lie. I realized that my life was definitely changing. I realized that, to some extent...

...This was the end of my humanity.

**-To be continued-**

**-in-**

**Part Two:**

_**Transitions**_

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**Author's Note:**

...And we're off! :3 That's the end of Part One!

And I am soooooo excited to get into Part Two! ^^ There's still so much of the story to tell, and things really heat up from here. (There are so many different plots and arcs in this story, but I just love writing and connecting them all~~)

Thank you all, so, so much for sticking with me through Part One! Everyone's reviews/comments always, really, make my day, and I love hearing all of your reactions as the chapters build!

RavenFollower13: Don't worry, Zim gets the first chapter in Part 2! ^^ I'm excited to get back into his arc~

Surrogate-Reality: Your observations are always so awesome and spot-on! :3 And now I, too, have that image of Dib using the stealth suit in my head... XD Love it~

acebrainbuster: I hope this was a good cliffhanger...! ^^

kenkosan: Thank you so much for finding me on dA~! 3 (I'll start being around more there, too, I swear...)

Whiiiiich actually brings me to my next note. Due to an insane schedule, it is seeming most likely that I will be taking a **hiatus** next week, in order to build up a buffer for Part 2. If all goes as planned, **The Mandylion Saga, Part Two: _Transitions_ will begin on Friday, July 15th.** Who knows, though? I may start posting next week, but do keep in mind that it will be as a new story, just so I can keep the parts separate. :3 In the meantime, I hoooooope to start actually updating my dA (link on profile) with sketches from this world, as well as _TWFF_ and _Changes_ in their original .pdf formats (because I'm addicted to fonts). If anything in my schedule changes, I'll put up an announcement on my profile here. ^^

I hate to leave you guys so up in the air with this ending for a while, but please do come back for Part Two! More secrets will be answered, we'll see just how those poor Tallest feel about their situation, and there may be a reunion or two coming right up... :3 Again, thank you all so much for your readership and support~! To everyone who reads this: you are awesome. ^^

See you soon, with Part Two! 3

~Jizena~

– – –

**Update: Part Two has begun, check for the link in my profile! ^^**


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